Category Archives: Flowers

Vinca and Narcissus.

They make a beautiful pair, even when apart.

The purple pulchritude presses forward with this second part of Purple Panache. I’m running out of pretty ‘P’ words, so before things turn nasty let’s quickly proceed to the images. (But just out of curiosity, what were you thinking: penis or pussy? My mind went to piss.)

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Maybe this is a tribute to the Purple One whose reign recently came to a sad close, or maybe it’s just a collection of pretty purple things because I love the color purple. It matters not.

Most are flowers, but there are a couple of surprises thrown in because purple doesn’t limit itself to one form.

Certain blog posts are titularly self-explanatory.

Lilacs and ajuga and roses – oh my!

A single flower can be majestic, but when taken en masse a collection can be even more striking.

Here are a few examples of how more is sometimes more.

Everybody knows The Four Seasons doesn’t fuck around, especially when it comes to their floral displays. Witness these gorgeous peonies, in all sorts of shades of coral – bright, warm, vibrant and rich. They look almost fake in their striking, saturated hues and the architectural perfection of their design. A painter could not have conjured a more flawless flower.

Though I’ll always be partial to the old-fashioned bomb-style blooms of the traditional peony (and its intoxicating perfume), hybrids like this carry their own glamour.

The cost of such beauty is a lack of any pervading scent, and scent is half the point of a peony. That’s a trade-off some of us won’t make. That said, there’s no denying the beauty at work here.

This is a fitting post for the last day of May, when the final full month of spring shifts into the golden road to summer.

The blooming season is heading into its first crest. All the world is alive.

At least, I think these are plum blossoms.

There used to be a gnarled old plum tree on the island in the middle of my childhood street. It was low to the ground, and afforded easy climbing opportunities for a boy. One large branch veered off at a precariously low angle, while the main trunk went up and above, affording a leafy canopy. Every late spring it bloomed in sprays of white, with a sweet-smelling perfume that also attracted buzzing bees. They never bothered me.

I was fascinated by the amber sap that formed bulbous clumps of shiny beauty. Every bruise or cut bled into a little jewel that I’d discover at varying stages of solidity. If you caught it at the right moment, it was almost transparent, while at other times the lightest touch would turn it cloudy and matte-like. Clearly, I’m not a scientist, and I’m only describing how a clueless boy saw the world at such a young age.

I sat on that limb, swinging my legs over the uncut grass beneath it, and waited for summer to arrive.

These interesting little mums are a different take on the daisy, and as such I had to include them in a vase for a daisy-themed get-together for my friend JoAnn. I like the way they collectively create such star-shooting movement. The rays of their white petals, the yellow radial form of their central orb, and the linear structure of their stems combine in thrilling fashion to conjure an effect much larger than expected. When dealing with simpler blooms, sometimes less is more. What would be lost as filler in grander schemes manages to steal the show on such a singular stage.

Hidden among the branches and leaves of its structure, quince is a plant that shyly hides its blooms. That’s no easy task given the striking shades of color the blossoms produce – they all but scream out to be noticed and adored – and who are we to ignore such a demand? Though I don’t like that form for my own garden, I will stop and pause for color this super-saturated and gorgeous. It also affords a vantage point for these photos, in which little nooks of beauty are sheltered from the elements and the larger population. Worlds of prettiness and delicate light float in semi-hidden recesses, and there’s always something secret about spring.

In the lofty boughs of fruit trees, I remember climbing away from a well-tread path and hiding as passers-by ambled along beneath me, unaware of my presence. Obscured with bright blooms and filtered sunlight, I sat in sweet-smelling serenity, unbothered by others, perfectly content in secret revelry and silent solitude. As I peek into the protected haunts of these quince blossoms, I am reminded of that moment.

To finish up a day of delicate blooms, this is the Korean spice viburnum, one of the most exquisitely perfumed shrubs of the spring landscape (and with the lilacs and fruit trees in fragrant bloom, that is quite an accomplishment.) This often goes unheralded, as the blooms are largely inconspicuous unless singled out by the camera lens. It flies under the radar that way, detectable mostly on still nights when their perfume is at its most potent.

It’s a marvelous ending to this tranquil but pretty day of flowers, and if one day they manage to make scent a part of the online experience, let this be a post to exemplify that. Until then, get out and find yourself one of these bushes.