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On Mother’s Day last year I requested a drive to Boyce Thompson Arboretum with my family. There is a place on the trail near the old homestead, lined with a hedge of pomegranates, where trees loom tall to cast extraordinary shadows on the path. Ever since my daughter was small my husband would take a photo of the two of us holding hands and walking down the path. All I wanted for Mother’s Day was my yearly photo. We pulled up only to discover that the gardens had closed early that day. I begged the woman at the gate. I’m guessing she was a mom too because she let us in. “Hurry though if you can, we will close the main gate soon and you won’t be able to get out.” We headed to the trail and the lighting was perfect for our photo. The toddler who had appeared in my early photos had now grown into a 5 foot 10 inch tall teenager, but she still held my hand, and that made me happy. One of my other favorite spots is the demonstration garden, so we raced there. The wildflowers were mostly finished blooming, but there were some wonderful irises blooming and so I snapped their portrait. I would say that this painting resembles our family, tall and blond and intact, (despite or shortcomings) but my daughter would say that the smallest iris should be taller. So instead it is a fellowship. Not Hobbits Syd, flowers.
