Princess of the Flowers

There was a flowery field down the road from where I rented pasture in Williams Twp., Pa. It was not a formal garden, just pretty flowers growing in the grass, as if someone had thrown out a handful of flower seeds and they sprouted. I thought I would like a picture of my Princess in those flowers. Princess was found next to the stream the day of the shearing and I never did figure out who her mother was. She was a happy little lamb and very dear to me. Nathan and Billy, my helper friends, helped me get Princess in the truck and off we went. Princess cooperated beautifully and I got my pictures. I scooped her up and we walked back toward the truck when I heard some awful, loud and nasty yelling from the house up the road from the field. The screams were followed by the gunning of the engine and screeching tires. The driver put on the brakes and an angry woman got out. What did we think we were doing in her flowers? I explained that the flowers were so beautiful that I couldn't help but want a picture of my favorite little lamb in the middle of them. I thought surely her anger would be softened by the cute little lamb in my arms, but no deal. She kept ranting and raving about trespassers and people who even dared to pick some flowers. I listened and apologized and said we had to get Princess back to her field. I got the impression that she planted the flowers to set a trap for people, and watched from her house to see if she could catch anyone. I saw the woman later that summer, when we were gathered by the edge of the Delaware that had flooded and covered most of Riegelsville, the little town where I lived. She was still angry about the flower incident. Here, people were losing everything they owned, including their homes, and this lady couldn't let go of the fact that people wanted to spend some time among the flowers. Thankfully, people are a lot more relaxed where I live now.