Helianthus
At the end of this day I was driving by through a country road I’ve never been before; it’s been October for a week now and as I was driving there they were, a few sunflowers standing in a field, alone amidst a deep green background. They were in full bloom.
October came and all the other sunflowers have since died standing up, like they’re known to do. They peak in July-August, they’re beautiful and shiny, they look as tall as the tallest man on earth, and then by mid-September they start dying. It’s a long and pitiful affair to see them like this, doubling down under the weight of their big heads, the crowns balding and losing their bright yellow in favor of a dull brown. It takes them three weeks to die like this, without a sound and without a cry. They do it gently and undisturbed, it’s what they do and what is expected of them.
They’re left to die like this for the sake of their seeds, but still. It’s a sad and pitiful affair to watch.
When they die their smell is strong and rotten. It takes up everything around them; you can’t walk or drive past a dying field of sunflowers without feeling it in your nose before it gets into your eyes. They die little by little, but they do it standing up. When you think about it, these were the same flowers that a few weeks before were staring right up at the sun without burning out their thousand tiny eyes; they were strong enough to be following it through the day, go to sleep and start again the day after. Until one day they’re tired and start to wane, they don’t turn anymore and end up staying still in the same position. Usually the entire field ends up facing the same way, a kind of coordinated act of death. All together, all the same, all at the same time.
I’m not against them dying, I’ve been happy enough watching them in bloom for a few weeks. There are thousands of them here; in Summer you can’t drive five minutes without coasting a green and yellow field that goes on for ages. I’ve wondered many times what it would feel stop the car, get out and walk between them. I imagine there would be the occasional critter running on the ground and as I would walk around making noise the birds would get scared and fly away from feeding on the crown of the flowers. I’ve had long and elaborated fantasies of losing myself in there for a little while; entering one side and getting out the other. In the middle, a whole new level of discovery made of high stems and big colored petals.
But I never did stop the car, and I never did get out to walk between the blooming sunflowers. I’m keeping this one for later on.
But today I thought about it again. This Indian Summer seemed to be over a week ago, and yet today here it was, unrepentant. The air was kind and the
sky was clear, and as I was driving the light was the likes of a pink sunset.
It was beautiful, really, the colors of fall were all around the forests up the hills, and in the distance over the mountains there were big fat clouds rolling down. Close enough to know tomorrow will be overcast, but still far away that today would end as it began without a stain.
I saw those few rebellious sunflowers in full bloom by accident; I was turning in a roundabout and they were peeking through the trees. I took an exit I didn’t need to take just so I could get closer and check that yes, they were full blooming, they were not folding on themselves and they were standing proud against all odds, in almost mid-October.
And I needed this reminder. I needed to know that there are flowers that refuse to die when it’s their time, even if it’s just a few of them and even if they’re there by accident. Clearly as they were scattered it meant that a few seeds got swept away when it was sowing season and ended up in a field that had nothing to do with them, but welcomed them nonetheless. They waited until their usual time was officially over and untended and unsupervised they decided to blossom in their own right, at their own personal rhythm, outliving all their kind.
When you think about it it’s a pretty bold move. To leave the group and try your life alone with no guarantees betting only on yourself, the ground you’ll eventually end up in and the kindness of the elements. It’s a badass move that only brave sunflower seeds could put off. Those ones did, and here they were standing proud at the end of a day in October, smelling like victory and not rotten decay.
It made me smile to catch this sight. It made me smile big time, it was so unexpected. And then it made me laugh in a kind of silly way, because I figured if a seed can lead its own glorious revolution and end up so majestic then so can we.
