Category Archives: Flowers

Not many people go online unfiltered anymore, but plants don’t have such vanity issues, so this is a completely unfiltered pair of photos of a simple morning glory. I say simple, but it’s stunning in its hue and shades, and the starlike central design that almost feels like it’s imagined. Nature usually only allows them the morning in which to bloom and shine, but now and then an overcast day will elongate their glory. We are in no mood to hasten summer along, so any extension of its spell is appreciated, especially at the start of a weekend. 

Happy Friday! 

Amid the heat and pandemic-pandemonium that has gripped every little city in the world, a lunch-time stroll can be the one thing between sanity and all the other options. I’ve been making sure to take a lunch break to reset and right myself when the workday threatens to engulf and overwhelm, and on one of my recent walks I was happy to see this container of lantana absolutely fanning the flames of floral fire. 

I am enthralled by how each blossom cluster holds so many different colors. You don’t often see that in a plant – it almost looks like an accident, like some artist took too much liberty with the laws of nature and created some other-worldly creation – only this one is real and natural and simply splendid. 

The color combination is stunning, and perhaps too bold for some people. 

It is just right for me. 

This may very well be the Year of the Petunia. They are somehow still managing to bloom in our backyard, despite repeated attacks by rabbits intent on defoliating them. And then on a lunch-time walk in downtown Albany the other day, I saw this exquisite variety that had me question whether the world had turned from technicolor into black and white at that particular moment. It was enchanting. 

While these were white with purple throats, it was a purple so dark that at first glance it gave the image of a black and white combo. Many gardeners seek out dark flowers, and the closer to black the more coveted. As a child, I too thrilled at the darker hues, particularly in irises. This hint of darkness in the throat of a petunia brought me back to that magic. 

The title of this post is the sole reason for its being.

I mean, beeing.

A dark, dreary and rainy Monday started the week in drab fashion, and when I opened the laptop to begin the workweek the screen was brighter than my surroundings – a situation that hadn’t happened since the earliest days of spring. We must make other sources of light, I thought, and promptly found these pics on my phone. 

This little orb of imitation sunshine is brought to you by Rudbeckia – a small stand of which has made its way into our front garden. It’s echoed in the backyard by great stands of the cup plant, which also provided some false sunshine as the rain fell and Monday slowly trudged through her gray trajectory. 

I shouldn’t complain too much – we need the rain badly, and I was getting tired of watering the ferns every morning. So much of July is given over to watering and weeding, it’s difficult to get a handle on anything else. 

July reminds me of this line from ‘Sunset Boulevard’: “Maybe red, bright flaming red – let’s make it gay!” The heat is on, and not just on the street – in the gardens as well, when the warm hues take center stage as the cooler shades of spring have long since faded. These shades are bright and bold, and they have to be to combat the striking sun. 

Summer lends itself to fiery celebrations, especially this weekend, but in these years of our lives I prefer the fireworks to be quietly exploding in the garden alone. Our world is loud and chaotic enough, and summer, while it may be hot, hazy, and lazy, should also be subdued and silent when it can be. The garden can make all the noise, as seen in these bold blooms.

July shouts its arrival in brash and beautiful fashion, moving us deeply into summer. 

While all of the petunias I planted in our garden bed have been devoured by this crazy-cute culprit, there are a pair of hanging baskets that have been in bloom for over a month now, lit up with some sweet potato vine leaves, and safely hung high above the ground. It’s the only safe space, with all the rabbits and groundhogs and other mysterious raiders who come in the night. 

The third day of summer is at hand, and the first Friday of summer at the same time, so despite the unexpected work day at the office (plans were canceled at the last minute) I’m still going to ride through the hours in a state of hopeful happiness as the heat rises for the weekend. 

To welcome that heat and humidity, here is a trio of blooms currently dotting the backyard, bringing a happy face to our poolside lounging. 

Summer living is supposed to be easy – relaxed and loose – mirroring the carefree days of childhood, the joy of holidays, the sunny sweet spot of a mid-afternoon siesta. That spirit is something I will attempt to conjure again, and I will try to carry it through the day. Happy Friday… Happy Summer.

These are some of the happiest little flowers, opening just as the summer season begins. Called ‘sundrops’ by some, for obvious reasons, and ‘evening primrose’ by others, for the way they open mostly at dawn or dusk, and Oenothera by a plant-loving nerd like myself, they are, no matter what you call them, bright and cheery harbingers of the sunny season. 

They can also colonize a patch of the garden quite quickly, perhaps too quickly if you have strict boundaries. Personally, I like a tough little cookie, especially when it brightens a summer morning. 

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.