Too Early for the Bloom
We went to Point Dume this week in anticipation of the superbloom. The hills were green, the ocean steady below, and the air warm in a way that felt almost premature for this time of year. We expected color.
But we were early. The fields weren’t yet covered in flowers. A few patches of yellow had pushed through, but the slopes were mostly still waiting. Even the blossoms that had opened seemed slightly tired, their edges curling in the heat.
It’s possible the warmth arrived too quickly this season. The temperatures have been high, and the sun felt strong on the bluff. The yellow flowers that were already in bloom looked a little shriveled, as though the season had skipped a step.
Still, the walk itself was beautiful. The ocean stretched wide and blue. The cliffs held their shape against the sky. There was wind moving steadily across the grasses, even if the bloom hadn’t yet come.
There’s something instructive about arriving too early. Anticipation builds a picture in the mind, and reality arrives on its own timeline. The land doesn’t accelerate because we’re ready for it.
It’s easy to project meaning onto natural cycles. To assume that more color, more abundance, more spectacle is better. But walking through a hillside that is not yet in bloom felt just as honest. Not incomplete. Just in process.
The shriveled yellow flowers were a reminder that even beauty has its window. Heat arrives. Conditions shift. Timing matters. There is a difference between forcing and allowing.
In the end, the bloom not being there didn’t take away from the walk. It simply removed the expectation. What remained was the ocean, the wind, and the steady rhythm of moving across the bluff without needing it to be anything more.
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