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By RAHN ADAMS

MORGANTON, N.C. (Aug. 17, 2020) – Well, tomorrow is my 61st birthday, and our lone sunflower—or whatever the heck it is, a white mulberry, maybe—hasn’t bloomed yet. We’ve been watching it grow and grow and grow all summer, and we’ve noticed that its big, green, heart-shaped leaves do follow the sun’s daily golden arcs across the sky. But no blossoms have popped open yet to solve the big mystery.

I’m going to assume it’s a sunflower—kind of like assuming that Schroedinger’s cat is still alive in that infamous sealed box of the popular thought experiment. I mean, why not? We make assumptions about more important things every day—that we haven’t contracted the Covid-19 coronavirus, that our elders locked away in nursing homes are OK, that American voters will make the right decisions on Nov. 3rd.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (18/19) — Chapter Eighteen, Sunflower (4/4)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (Aug. 13, 2020) – “American Pie” is playing on the 70s on 7 satellite radio channel right now as I start this essay. I couldn’t have planned it any better. Singer-songwriter Don McLean, who also scored Top 40 hits in the early 1970s with “And I Love You So” and “Vincent,” was the first successful recording artist I ever bought a ticket to hear in a bar. He played old P.B. Scott’s Music Hall in Blowing Rock one hot summer night in the late ’70s. I left annoyed because he stopped after playing just one set.

“American Pie” wasn’t in my own repertoire back then, but McLean’s other two blockbuster hits were, especially the one about Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh that opens with the haunting words, “Starry, starry night / Paint your palette blue and gray / Look out on a summer’s day / With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.” Accompanying myself on piano, I played weddings, banquets, school functions, even a reception at the N.C. Governor’s Mansion and an open-mic night at a famous Myrtle Beach bar.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (18/19) — Chapter Eighteen, Sunflower (3/4)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (Aug. 5, 2020) – Three years ago today, on Aug. 5, 2017, Timberley and I drove from Charlotte to Morganton at the end of her third hospital stay in just over a month. We had set up three webcams around the house to keep an eye on the place—well, actually, on our trouble-making kitten, Scout—while we were gone. Her brother, Jem, always behaved and still does. Scout was aptly named.

The other day I was looking through the photos and videos on my phone, and I happened to run across all 12 of the 30-second clips that the webcams recorded that day. In a number of those clips, the motion sensors were simply tripped by flashes of light from the street that reflected in the window and bounced off the living room walls—at least, I hope those were headlights. I don’t know. Maybe they were haints.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (18/19) — Chapter Eighteen, Sunflower (2/4)

By RAHN ADAMS

MORGANTON, N.C. (July 31, 2020) – All my life, I’ve felt like a dandelion in a field of sunflowers. So about a year ago—it was in early August—I ordered two packets of dandelion seed from Amazon and decided to become a dandelion farmer, as if anyone needed help to grow the little yellow buggers.

Now, I knew better than to plant those seeds right then. Dandelions are spring wildflowers. But that’s how I am. I start thinking ahead, and then I begin gathering all the supplies I need to do whatever I’m planning to do. When the time’s right, I want to know I can meet whatever deadline I’ve set for myself.

Last summer when I started this book, I had big plans—besides growing dandelions and then feasting on dandelion greens and dandelion wine. I’d also bought some dandelion tea from the supermarket—it was supposed to do wonders for me—but one cup was all it took to quench my thirst for dandelion tea.

Timberley and I were also going to buy fishing licenses and go trout fishing once winter passed and the weather warmed up. We planned to dust off our golf clubs, shine our golf shoes and play regular rounds of golf. But then the pandemic hit and shut everything down, and we got to know life under quarantine.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (18/19) — Chapter Eighteen, Sunflower (1/4)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (July 21, 2020) – Mango Madness’s first fiery blossom of the summer opened Sunday in Morganton. As I’ve said before, that dahlia was our Most Valuable Plant last year off the mountain. He bloomed from July to November, and all his mango-colored blossoms were photogenic, catching rays of light just right no matter how he lined up to the sun. But this year he’s playing catch-up in the AFL.

Yes, that’s the Adams Floral League, which opened in March despite the novel coronavirus quarantine. The AFL’s Dahlia Division took the field in May with the blooming of our burgundy beauty, Midnight Dancer, who finished out of the money last year in fourth place behind Mango Madness, The General and Yellow Star. This year a newcomer, Crazy Love, has taken an impressive lead in our garden.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (17/19) — Chapter Seventeen, Dahlia (3/3)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (July 15, 2020) – Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about dreams and old coaches—in my case, a handful of good men who molded me as we pursued our shared goals.

As far as dreams go—I’m referring to sleeping dreams now—I remember only one that seemed to deal with life goals and, in fact, has guided my decision making at various crossroads. To paraphrase the old Yankee catcher, coach and philosopher Yogi Berra, whenever I came to a fork in the road of life, I took it, but I kept an eye peeled for a good roadside diner where I could put that eating utensil to its best use.

The Yankees were, in fact, the first sports team I was aware of as a child, probably around age 5. I liked the names Mickey Mantle and Yogi Berra for obvious reasons, as I’m part of the TV Generation weaned on Mickey Mouse and Yogi Bear cartoons. Weaned? I ate all my meals off a little Hanna-Barbera plate bearing the image of a pic-a-nic at Jellystone Park with Yogi, Boo-Boo, Ranger Smith and their friends.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (17/19) — Chapter Seventeen, Dahlia (2/3)

By RAHN ADAMS

MORGANTON, N.C. (July 5, 2020) – Like everything else this growing season, our dahlias bloomed early—about two weeks earlier than in 2019. Beginning in late May and blossoming until the second week in November, our dahlias outdid themselves last year, especially the purple-and-white one that I refer to as The General, two glowing yellow, spiky-petaled ones that I call Crack Dahlias, and a flame-colored beauty that consistently yielded perhaps the most photogenic blooms. Our dahlias were prime.

Actually, prime probably isn’t the right mathematical term to describe dahlias. I’d never heard of what’s called the Fibonacci sequence until a couple of weeks ago after I posted on Instagram a closeup picture of a new dahlia called Crazy Love that Timberley planted last fall and some other flowers from our yard here. A friend liked the post and commented simply, “Nice. Fibonacci.” I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know what that term meant, and, therefore, I wasn’t entirely sure which photo he was referring to.

I looked the word up—yes, on Wikipedia—and read some articles on Fibonacci numbers, the Fibonacci sequence, the Golden Ratio, and the Golden Spiral. I won’t even try to explain it all—I’ve always hated math—but, basically, the Fibonacci sequence of numbers deals with a pattern of growth or construction that results in an ever-widening spiral, something that is seen everywhere in nature and often mimicked in art and other man-made things. I guess my friend saw it in my closeups of the dahlia and coneflower.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (17/19) — Chapter Seventeen, Dahlia (1/3)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (June 30, 2020) – I’ve mistakenly called them mystery lilies over the years, but they’re actually rain lilies; or, zephyranthes. Other names are zephyr lily, fairy lily, magic lily and rainflower. Timberley corrected me the other day as I was babbling about them. She’s my own personal Wikipedia. I’m always asking her what that pretty flower is and what those nice plants are, and she always knows.

Like our bogus mystery lilies in Morganton, I’m treading on dangerous ground or thin ice or eggshells or whatever writing about one’s spouse for public consumption is called. Those lilies grow in a single, unlikely spot in a thin strip of earth between our asphalt driveway and stone retaining wall. It sure is a mystery to me how they survive from one year to the next, but they pop up each June, like clockwork.

Here in Boone, our daylilies are just starting to bloom. For the past decade or so they have been, by far, the most prolific flowers in our Rutherwood yard, especially the common orange variety that Timberley says some folks call ditch lilies, a fact also supported by Wikipedia that she noted as we traveled to and from Morganton this past weekend. We also have yellow and purple lilies, and Turk’s caps at our house.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (16/19) — Chapter Sixteen, Lily (3/3)

By RAHN ADAMS

MORGANTON, N.C. (June 20, 2020) – I kind of wish PGA legend Tiger Woods and LPGA rising star Lily Muni He would get together despite the difference in their ages and procreate a supergolfer for us. They could name the child Tiger Lily, and he, she or they could take over the golf world and Instagram.

Like Lily Muni He, a 22-year-old Chinese model with a sexy backswing, 44-year-old Tiger Woods has stood in the worldwide spotlight and been the focus of media photographers since his youth, as a golfer and as a product influencer, as He—that’s Lily Muni He—is called now. I’m even one of her followers.

I’m not entirely sure what product Lily is selling—well, besides her good looks—but you can bet I’ll be watching the next LPGA event that’s televised on Free TV. Timberley will probably be glad that I (may) stop yelling “Creamer!” every time veteran golfer Paula Creamer, my former favorite, comes on-screen.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (16/19) — Chapter Sixteen, Lily (2/3)

By RAHN ADAMS

BOONE, N.C. (June 15, 2020) – “And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin” (Matthew 6:28, KJV). That verse is in all red letters.

Even though that’s the translation preferred by most evangelical Christians, I’ll go ahead and interpret it for folks who have heard the verse all their lives but don’t really understand what Jesus was saying in it.

Why are you worried about what you wear and how you look? Think about the lilies that are blooming everywhere now—how they grow on nothing but sunshine and rain, maybe a little fertilizer. Lilies don’t work for money to buy a wardrobe. They don’t even make their own clothes.

Continue reading Rutherwood; or, Life on the Run (16/19) — Chapter Sixteen, Lily (1/3)