I don’t know who sent purple after me, but it’s been showing up everywhere I point my camera. I walk outside to mind my own business and suddenly — BAM — another violet diva pops up like it’s auditioning for America’s Next Top Wildflower.

It started with

this thistle blooming like it had something to prove. A honeybee was busy grocery shopping in the middle it, collecting pollen like she had a coupon expiring at midnight. The whole flower looked like it was wearing a fluffy purple boa, and I couldn’t help thinking, “Girl … same.” Then came

A bloom so soft and frilly it practically whispered secrets. The purple around it glowed like it was holding an enchanted spell or at least trying to flirt with the sun. I swear this flower had Disney-princess-level confidence. A little later, as if purple wasn’t done ambushing me, the sky turned into

A purplish sunrise that looked like the sun busted through a violet blanket because it was late for work. It wasn’t subtle, either. That halo of light burst out like it overslept its alarm and sprinted into the sky. Of course, the purple parade continnued with

Tall little lavender-like blooms waving at me like they knew I couldn’t resist. These flowers look delicate, but I know the truth: they are basically tiny purple soldiers that survive Texas heat better than most humans.

One afternoon I met the star of

A purple puffball hosting a grasshopper doing Olympic-level stretching. He posed like he wanted a profile photo for his bug dating app. I love a creature that knows its angles. And finally, chaos arrived wrapped in smoke and neon with

Bursts of purple and pink fog swirled together like the sky was trying out new makeup. It felt dramatic, mystical, and slightly unhinged — basically my kind of vibe.

Some people say purple is the color of royalty, mystery, and magic. All I know is this: purple has been following me around like it owes me money, showing up in flowers, bugs, skies, and explosions. I’m not mad. It’s been a beautiful little purple takeover.