I didn’t know if it was a wildflower or not but it should be for it has a mind of its own.

I have a photograph and description in my wildflower album though this patch can’t legitimately qualify for a packet was given to me in memory of a very special mom. I felt honored to be able to plant the seeds and prayed they would grow. (I am not the greatest at that.)

Strewing enthusiastically last fall, I had selected an area close to the house and close to the hostas but still in an area never cultivated before. (That means untouched since the house was built.) Regrettably, once spring arrived there were areas I couldn’t reach to dig the bad stuff out without squashing (we call it sitting on) some of their pretty little flowers. I did the very best I could and hoped they would flourish.

Only a flower that’s supposed to keep going until October, says the book, gave up in early June. I’m thinking I can start collecting seeds in a few more days — and really, really hope there’ll be more flowers once this dreadful dry spell ends. Watering isn’t enough. (My weather station forecasts rain daily now but it doesn’t — guess they too have hopes.)

In the meantime what is still standing refuses to conform to what any of my wildflower guides suggest.

None of the books vary much in their description so let me turn to the National Audubon Society Field Guide to Wildflowers, Eastern Edition:

“True Forget-me-not, Myosotis scorpioides, A sprawling plant with several tiny, light blue, tubular flowers with golden centers growing on small, curving, divergent branches uncoiling as flowers bloom. Flowers 1/4” wide, corolla 5-lobed. Leaves 1-2” long, oblong, blunt, hairy, mostly stalkless. Height 6-24″. Habitats streamsides and wet places.

“Introduced from Europe and once extensively cultivated, this species is now naturalized around lakes, ponds, and streams. In bud, the tightly coiled flower cluster resembles the tail of a scorpion, hence the species name.”

“Late spring to fall.” Hmm. Last I looked we were still in June as I write this. Also, last time I looked the pretty little things had shriveled and dried up. (Did I unwisely ignore the section about streamsides? I fear I did . . but it’s usually mucky anywhere around here.) Only what I suspect are seed pods still exist. Sadly, any thoughts I had of harvesting seeds to fill in all that empty weeded space didn’t have a chance to develop. I imagine they expected to have the entire summer.

I do recognize there might be different interpretations as to why these plants failed as forget-me-nots. Perhaps they were — and never were.

Now I can understand wild plants running and doing — well, wild things. Though most, as far as I know, seem content to behave as the genes inherited from long ago direct. I’m not forgetting Mendel and the studies he did in hybridization of garden peas and do understand things can sometimes run amok.

Granted all that, I did expect packaged seeds to behave as the directions on the envelope say they should. (And wet was never mentioned.)

I was given FMN seeds which, when duly planted, popped up as proper FMNs. Not as many as I’d have liked and even fewer now. I tried to be careful. Really I did.

Now the plot is basically empty well, two or three clumps of FMNs are hanging on — taken over far too rapidly by a lot of bindweed. Morning glories have their place and pretty much stay where I think they should. Bindweed has a lovely flower too, but tends to climb up any plant in sight. This year they love the hostas and I’ve just spotted a couple among my azaleas. I don’t lack for challenges.

But I’ll be keeping an eye on where I know the FMNs were. Will they return if our precipitation becomes more normal? Or is arid just our new way of life?

Guess time will tell.

Susan Crossett has lived in Arkwright for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. “Her Reason for Being” was published in 2008 with “Love in Three Acts” following in 2014. Information on all the Musings, her books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.