As I walk from my driveway to the South Shore Drive, with my two dogs on leash, I am delighted to see a profusion of dark green lupine plants growing at my roadside.
The seeds I have been scattering for the past several years have finally taken root, and, if all goes well, a nice colony of lupines will bloom in several weeks.
The dogs don’t care about flowers and are busy sniffing a clump of dirt on the other side of the road, so I follow them and notice that not a single lupine grows here. Why is that? I remember throwing tons of seeds at this spot.
Apparently when it comes to lupine, there are no explanations. They go where they want, and my driveway proves that. One side is filled with small spiky lupines, the other side is bare.
When my pooches finally finish investigating the dirt clump, the three of us stroll west.
My nearest neighbor’s ditch, where I distinctly remember throwing many seeds, contains one measly plant. Oops. That’s too bad. I will have a hard time explaining why my side of the driveway is filled and not hers.
But lupines go their own way, and there’s not much we humans can do about it. The next driveway, where I have not scattered seeds, is filled to the brim with growing lupines. Who knows why? These neighbors have not visited their cabin in several years.
My morning walk has alerted my lupine radar, so later in the day, as I drive to town, I assess the up-andcoming crop.
Several spots at the east end of the South Shore are jam-packed with small lupine plants, conjuring visions of lush hillsides filled with lavender and blue flowers. This could be a good year.
Unfortunately, I also drive past the mailbox where, several years ago, a red lupine plant was filched—the dark side of the lupine world.
I turn onto Devil Track Road and am greeted by the cheerful clumps of marsh marigolds. On this bright May morning, the water-filled wetlands alongside the road glow with the yellow blooms, and they take my full attention.
Eventually I resume my lupine watching. Down the Gunflint Hill—yes, the crop looks good here too. Along Highway 61—yes, large patches of lupine are growing.
Reaching town, I make a final evaluation. This will be a good lupine year. Better than good—wonderful. If I were a gambling woman and more organized, I would make a betting chart on which date the blooms will peak.
On the other hand, I decide to take a chance and make a prediction.
This year’s lupine crop will one of the best in many years, a bumper crop, and to really go out on a limb, I forecast that the blue blooms will reach their peak on June 16.
How will I prove my prediction? June 16 is the day my husband and I will be driving to the Twin Cities for the Back to the Fifties car show, and I will perform a serious lupine assessment as we cruise down Highway 61.
Trust me.
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