Category Archives: Flowers

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. 

Near the end of our Spring Stroll in Boston, this patch of yellow crocus appeared, heralding the new season and mimicking the sun that decided to disappear right at that moment. These little flowers carried on the cheer in the face of wind and rain. They make a lovely little mid-Sunday treat as well.

Legend has it that the name ‘daisy’ is derived from ‘day’s eye’, which seems too good to be true, but maybe there was a time when the world made sense, and pretty things had pretty names without any sort of ulterior motives or cynical irony. I’m embracing that kind of hope as I am due in Cape Cod for JoAnn’s birthday gathering, and given the way travel plans have gone over the past two years, may the universe smile on our little get-together. 

In honor of the birthday girl, here are some daisies, one of her favorites. They remind me of her, and populate any party we’ve thrown in her honor. A more cheerful floral persona the world doesn’t yet know. 

A true pansy laughs off spring snowstorms, shuddering in the wind and cold, but bravely prevailing and shaking off the icy cloak of winter’s death throes. At the time of this writing, I have no idea what sort of snow event we will be getting today, or how it might affect the plants outside. It’s way too early for me to have put anything outside, and the perennials and shrubs will have the power to shrug off the snow as needed. We may lose a few flowers in the process, but such is to be expected in upstate New York. 

In the meantime, this glimpse of pansies from the local nursery will provide a happy thing to look upon while we trudge through a decidedly dreary day. Andy had hoped to have the pool open and running by now, though it may be best to wait a bit. No sense in having it snow on that parade. 

While spring wavers in properly arriving, and we still have snow squalls terrorizing the neighborhood, I’ve been in a bit of a funk, seeking some source of inspiration for kicking myself into spring gear. I may try switching out the rose quartz crystal I use in my daily meditation with a carnelian stone, which supposedly ignites the creative drive. 

Or maybe this blazing begonia seen at Faddegon’s will prove the incendiary source of inspiration to usher me into creatively fertile ground. Any recommended music, books, shows, movies, or artists are always appreciated. 

When spring is slow to start, and the flowers are hesitant to open, I find my way to Faddegon’s to get a little floral fix before everything opens at once. (It usually happens when more than one day in a row deigns to be warm, and since that doesn’t look to happen with any consistency soon, here are a few floral blasts from the local greenhouse. They give a thrill because of their strong colors, and may be appreciated more than when the outside world will inevitably catch up to them. 

Why Tuesday should feel so much worse than Monday is one of life’s more bothersome mysteries. The Tuesday Blues are a real thing, and sometimes the only thing to combat their shadow is something like these gorgeously-shaded grape hyacinths. The colors of these are more delicate and nuanced than the ones that are more commonly found in the spring garden, and in the greenhouse where I found this grouping, they are far less tattered than those thrown about by spring winds and storms. 

The term ‘hot-house flower’ is usually used in disparaging fashion, describing some overly-delicate person considered too sensitive or sheltered for their own good. Personally, I’ve always thought of a hot-house flower as something rare and exotic, something to be exalted and honored, and if that means being a little more careful and considerate of them, all the better. 

So here’s to the hot-house flowers, like this variety of grape hyacinth, lucky and fortunate to be raised outside of the winter wilderness. We should not begrudge it such a pampered life. 

While outside, April showers…

And all the rain of the past week has put a damper on all the outside work that needs to be finished. I’ve always taken rain as nature’s cue to slow down, particularly at this time of the year when too many of us try to do too many things. Spring has us all a little antsy, and in that diabolical way Mother Nature has, it won’t let us out until we’ve learned to find peace inside. 

To that end, I fill the house with flowers and prettiness, easing the mind with meditation and reading. Quiet pursuits with serenity as their guiding force. A Saturday in spring may start quietly. There will be time for summer noise soon enough. 

Fiery of shade and flame-like of hue, this tulip bloom is a little globe on fire, and it’s inspiring me to burn with the brightest flame, no matter what the cost or wear and tear. “My candles burns at both ends, it will not last the night,” Edna St. Vincent Millay once wrote, “But Ahh my foes, and oh my friends, it gives a lovely light!” 

The older I get, the less willing I am to put up with the bullshit. More patient and tolerant in many ways, I’m also well-aware of my breaking point, and what I will or won’t tolerate. Baseless attacks on loyalty and friendship are foremost among those things that cannot be ignored. Peddling in lies and false tales won’t be allowed either. Try me and find out. 

In the past, such a stance was forced and propped up by insecurity and doubt. Lashing out was a way to mask feelings of inferiority. These days, I don’t feel the need to shout. More is accomplished – and in more frightening fashion – when the words are spoken quietly, with assurance, genuine self-confidence, and the irrefutable backing of truth. 

When the fires burn low, and the ash crumbles, it is the truth that will remain – crystalline and unassailable – forged as if in hell, tempered by an ever-present divinity, and sparkling for all the world to see.

The forecast for the rest of the week calls for rain every damn day, so I’m posting a few sunny flower pics in the hope that they bring cheer when the clouds come to stay. These little white daisy-like blooms are produced in abundance on their stems and were, I’m slightly ashamed to admit, designed as filler for some bolder and bigger lilies and sunflowers. Both of those ended their show before these little beauties gave in, and so I can now appreciate them for the wonder they are. 

Their unassuming subtlety and quiet countenance deceptively hide the power of their effect. When viewed up close, and also en masse, their enchantment only grows. 

It is precisely the sort of magic balm we need for these rainy days. 

“It is spring time now! While the world looks for a new war to fight, you look for a cherry blossom to watch! Let the stupid seeks the violence; you seek the elegance!” ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Early spring heaves a heavy sigh, shedding a few tears of upcoming rainy days – a necessary part of spring glory I suppose, but oh how the heart aches for some sun and warmth… In the meantime, all we have are these falsely-started cherry blossoms, doing their best to cajole some happy spirits, and console the heavy hearts. 

A spring jazz selection will have to do to pass these next few dreary days. April showers bring May flowers… April showers bring May flowers… April showers bring May flowers… so we chant and intone and will it into being.