Milkweed has bloomed in our roadside ditches, and I always forget that it's scent is nearly overwhelming in sweetness; more heady than roses, and even more beautiful than that of lilacs.
One of the joys of writing a novel was that descriptive scenes forced me to observe nature in minute detail as I struggled to do justice to our rural countryside. I feel strongly that the beauty of our state is underrated, and so I worked hard to help others see and appreciate Kansas beauty. I rememeber laboring over the following passage, but I'm so glad to have this record of Kansas in the spring:
A thunderstorm riding the edge of a cold front had moved through in the night, leaving the early morning air cool and fragrant with the heavy purple scent of crushed milkweed blossoms. When I looked toward the east, I was awed to see millions of tiny droplets of dew coating the bent grasses in the pasture beyond the fence, each drop serving as a prism to reflect the angled sunlight. The hazy air was full of cottonwood fluff and swooping dragonflies, their back- lit forms creating a diaphanous, otherworldly beauty.Milkweed--just one of the treasures of living in rural Kansas.