Category Archives: Flowers

Before I post about last weekend’s Boston adventures with Kira, I’m doing a gentle entry post with these charming windflowers that were in bloom when we were in town. They have colonized a small section of the Southwest Corridor Park, in the shade of some flowering trees, and they are just coming into the most lovely part of their growth cycle. These delicate white flowers dangle and nod in the slightest breeze, conjuring an aura of elegant and rustic beauty. 

They are not extravagant or exceptionally showy – and their beauty depends largely on such restraint. In simplicity there is art; in what is sparse, there is what is vast. When a flower gives you just enough to leave you wanting more, when it demands that you fill in the blanks of what you think might be missing, it has succeeded in its purpose. That’s what this past weekend felt like in Boston. Just enough to want for more. 

Roses, lilacs, and a hotel lobby make me a happy guy. Then together, they can create a moment of magic that seems to still the day, amid all the hustle and bustle with which a hotel lobby space can be filled. The Copley Fairmont stands majestically over its square, and the ornate lobby space is worth a walk-through whenever I’m in town, if only to see a bouquet like this, magnificently holding court and focus. 

Little pockets of respite and hospitality in the midst of a city like Boston offer the space for recuperating in a day of walking and shopping. I love a hotel lobby for just such a purpose. When it’s decked out in such prettiness, so much the better. 

There is something spectacular to be said about monochromatic schemes, and while I’m not disciplined enough to maintaining myself, I’m always enraptured when I see them done well. There’s also a sense of calm and serenity to a scene that eases the eyes by using one or two colors, rather than utilizing the full spectrum in dramatic super-saturated intensity. Bouquets that focus on a single section of the color wheel offer a charm and elegance often missing from a cacophonous mix of every color available. As I get older, I find myself drawn to such simplicity. 

I’m also a great admirer of the moonlight garden – those spaces that use only white flowers for a garden that exerts its magic most powerfully at dusk or dawn, when the white flowers act like little moons floating at ground level. That’s the vibe I got from this camp of white narcissus – serenity, tranquility, calm. A quiet nod of beauty in a world that grows louder and less serene by the day. 

Everything’s been coming up roses in these parts, and it’s a beautiful thing. Fresh off this celebratory rose fragrance post, I found this gorgeous bouquet of ‘country roses’ at Trader Joe’s. With their undulating shades of pink, and these wondrously ruffled edges, they were more interesting than the common roses one finds in every market these days. 

There was something quaint about them as well, befitting their designation as country roses, and I don’t even know what that might mean. Sometimes it is enough just being pretty. 

Finishing up ‘The Highly Sensitive Person’ by Dr. Elaine N. Aron is putting me in an introspective mindset, as does this glorious spring weather we have had of late. I want to slow everything down and savor it, to fully inhabit the moment at hand, to pause in the bed of unfurling ostrich ferns and lean down to take in the full fragrance of a daffodil.

“Sometimes we do need just to enjoy the world out there as it is and be glad for those who help us, the extraverted who can make even total strangers feel connected. Sometimes we need an inner anchor – that is, those who are introverted and give their full attention to the deepest nuances of private experience. Life is not just about the movies we have both seen and the restaurants we have both tried. Sometimes discussing the subtler questions is essential for the soul.” ~ Dr. Elaine N. Aron

Our Kwanzan cherry tree is in full bloom, and already dropping its petals – a lesson in the fleeting nature of such beauty and grace. It never lasts for long – but I would always indulge in short glory if only for the memory of it. I stand beneath the tree in the late afternoon, looking at the way the sun ricochets through the pink canopy, and I do my best to still the moment, to elongate the beauty, to make a memory that will last long after the final pink petal drops. 

When spring is stalled and the nights are still too cold to put out the tropical potted plants, I find solace in the local greenhouse – in this case Faddegon’s – where the plants are warm and toasty and in full bloom. The colors are wildly vibrant, especially after such a drawn-out and dull winter, and they bring to mind hints of summer and sunny days. 

Is there a happier sight than a hibiscus in gloriously full bloom? With their throats of scarlet or cream and frilled petals of salmon and sunshine, they make for happy faces indeed. 

Deeper in the greenhouse was this hanging specimen, with little purple and white bunches of flowers – another tropical treat that is perfectly at home indoors when the winds wail and the night temperature drops. 

And so we wait for the outside to catch up with the inside, and for spring to offer something slightly more pleasant before summer storms in without any sort of temperate moderation whatsoever. 

This space needed a little jolt of happy energy, and so this pair of photos is intended to lift us up a bit until the weather more fully embodies the season. These flowers remind me of summer vacation, where they often populate the potted plantings of seaside towns and summer homes. I may grow a few myself this year, but we are not yet at the frost-free date, and this year I’m not chancing anything. 

I found a lovely bouquet of pale pink hyacinths at the market a couple of weeks ago, and they held long stems that included the very top of the bulbs from which they originated. I plopped them into a vase and let them flaccidly flop about, thinking they might rebound like a tulip and curve upwards. Instead, they curved downward, and the effect was rather graceful and enchanting. It’s difficult to go wrong when you let nature guide design.

The resulting form echoed that of a trailing orchid bloom as it hangs over some tropical tree limb. It was an exquisite effect, so I didn’t bother re-cutting the flowers to a shorter and more sturdy form. Beauty will happen where it happens – it’s best to just go with the flow.