One of my “fans” recently complained that I post too many flower stories. She then tried to explain that she didn’t even read my blog but one of her “side-pieces” had reported to her that it was all flowers and hot men so she didn’t need to bother. One of my mainstay favorite parts of this blog over the years has been the unsolicited complaint, usually proffered from someone who says they don’t actually read it but hears about what I write. While my use of the word ‘favorite’ is somewhat steeped in sarcasm, it genuinely doesn’t bother me. In truth, it has actually been a source of amusement and pride in still ruffling feathers enough to merit comment or criticism twenty-plus years into this adventure.
“The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.” ~ Oscar Wilde
There is also something flawed in anyone who dismisses the power inherent in the beauty and ephemeral grace of a flower. It speaks to a lack of development of true power and appreciation, as does attempting to bring down anything that doesn’t directly speak to one’s own preferences.
Flowers can be as ferocious as prose can be deadly.
And so to all the flower-lovers out there – and all the flower-haters too – this song’s for you.
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