Category Archives: Flowers

Fall’s traditional color palette gets a refreshing update with the addition of these pink chrysanthemums – and pink and orange is a combination I’ve always loved. It also loops a bit of summer back into the autumnal splendor, and any echo of a sunnier season is welcome on the days of grey. A lot of people, myself once included, look down upon the humble chrysanthemum as too ubiquitous and common to be more than visual background noise, but I’m in awe and always honor their striking appearance. Just because something is suddenly everywhere doesn’t necessarily make it less beautiful.

More impressive is how every bloom is absolutely unique – one-of-a-kind like snowflakes and people and other flowers. One can get lost in examining and studying a single plant, and quite happily at that. Mindfulness in motion.

Fall anemones are one of the forgotten joys of our garden. Even after admiring their foliage for much of the summer, I’ll often forget about their blooms until the late afternoon sunlight illuminates these delicate pink petals, calling me to their beauty and offering some bit of balm against the oncoming cold. As one of the final acts of the garden for the season, it’s a pretty send-off as the beds go to slumber for another year.

There are a few more pockets of floral loveliness, sometimes in the seed-heads and dried floral umbrellas of hydrangeas or the seven sons flowering tree, but most of the summer magic has long since dissipated. While part of me mourns for the end of the warmth, another part welcomes the downtime, the rest, the opportunity to recharge and rejuvenate over the long winter. Feel free to remind me of that when the complaints come in January.

Like the animals, flowers seem to sense an impending storm, putting on a last-ditch effort to bloom and show-off right before the Nor’easter arrived. Of course, this is all anthropomorphic nonsense that just feels more fun to entertain than existing in any very real or scientific realm. I’ll stop speaking now. You are so very welcome. Enjoy the show.

The flowering of the anemone is always a harbinger of fall. These beauties were blooming along the Southwest Corridor Park near our place in Boston while Noah and I were visiting a couple of weeks ago. I have a single pink variety in our garden, which is more pale and less striking than this one – both carry their charms differently, neither unpleasantly or disappointingly.

To my shame and slight regret, I don’t grow many late-blooming plants because I’ve mostly moved on from the garden by this point – not wanting to indulge in the slow decline and browning until the inevitable killing-frosts that will fell all in a single night or two. It’s always been too painful to get attached or enamored of something that we know won’t last. Maybe I’ve been wrong in that mode of living – this plant is a reminder that there is still beauty and glory to be found until that first hard frost arrives. Living in fear and giving up on something just because it won’t last is… well, it hurts the soul a little, doesn’t it?

While they make a big impact in bouquets, as seen below, the dahlia is rightfully insistent on being allowed to stand indelibly on its own – demanding such a stance when its petals are seemingly painted by some magical stroke of heaven. A reluctant ensemble player then, almost apologetic for its grand magnificence – and why should any of us dim our lights just to make those around us feel better about themselves? Somewhere along the line some of us learned not to shine as brightly as our natural talents would allow, not to draw attention to ourselves and what brilliance we could produce, because others were uncomfortable or didn’t understand it. That’s the foolish ignorance of society rearing its ugly and inept head. Don’t ever dim your own light because anyone around you is unwilling or unable to match it. The ones who matter will celebrate you no matter what; the ones who don’t will squawk and attack, and it will be up to you to ignore and move on without them. No more apologizing for being our own fabulous selves.

Whether you find yourself in a big bouquet or alone in a single bud vase, don’t stop shining, don’t stop thrilling, and don’t ever stop being the one and only person you were born to be. Paint your petals, land your punches, and be entirely and utterly your one true self. You know who you are – and if you don’t, find the fuck out. It’s your right. It’s your destiny. It’s your life – and you’re only given one here. Don’t squander it trying to be smaller or less bright for anyone else, ever.

Echoing this morning’s floral fireworks, here are some vibrant chrysanthemums I saw at Faddegon’s the other day, lending heat and passion to the end of the season, and setting the table for fall with one fell, and very pretty, swoop.

With the plentiful supply of both water and sun this past summer, the annuals are still going strongly in most gardens (and garden centers, which is where these photos were taken). Usually the flowers are slowing down at this point in the season, so this show is very much appreciated, especially with its strong and saturated hues. With the sun lower in the sky, the richness is only amplified. Lantana is one of those magical flowers that manages to have almost an entire rainbow within its blooms.

As seen above, the coleus is going to bloom – something most would typically discourage to promote leaf growth and bushiness, but which is welcome now for the grand summer finale. I’ve let the Thai basil in our garden go to bloom too, enjoying its dark violet shade for an unexpected flash of color. It’s the end of summer again – it’s time to let go and let bloom.

Maybe it’s time for us to do that in life too.

Like the person who captured its meek afternoon form here, this anemone flower – the first of the season in our garden – turned bashful and spent before I could capture it in its earlier incarnation of freshness and fully-open glory. I’d noticed it in the morning but forgot to get a pic until the sun had almost gone down. A bit of browning, and the petals turned inward, indicated it was just about done with its show. I’m not sure how long it may have been in bloom – I didn’t even realize we still had an anemone plant in that area, so this was an unexpected delight – the very best sort of delight.

‘Tis anemone season, for better or worse…

This gloriosa lily was part of a hotel display on a recent trip to Boston – more on that to come with a Special Guest Appearance by my nephew Noah.

For now, just enjoy this preview and peek…

The glow of oncoming autumnal splendor illuminates the dahlia blooms at this time of the year. This bouquet was on display at Riverside Garden Studio, brightening up a lunch-break visit I made there last week while on the hunt for a natal mahogany tree. Dahlias are at their prime now in this part of the world, their splendor coming late in the season, and welcome when so much of the garden has gone to seed or slumber already.

Dahlias hold a special place in my heart, despite the fact that I don’t find them worth the trouble of growing. It is enough to admire those of others, enjoying them in those gardens through which I will only briefly pass.

Whenever we have friends staying over, I’ll put together a bouquet for the front entryway – a small gesture of welcome and greeting for all who enter here. My friend Alissa gave us the vase for it as a wedding gift and whenever it’s filled I am reminded of her. For this past weekend’s visit with Ann and Missy, I added a very simple but effective collection of some peach-colored stock and cheerful chamomile.

I now offer this to you, who have cared enough to visit this post and read these words – you deserve these flowers more than just about anybody else. And that’s good.

Fuzziness is usually the state of my head these days, which doesn’t make it a welcome state for the most part. May this post go a little way toward redeeming the notion of fuzziness, lending it a cute and cuddly aspect through this vibrant flower currently in bloom on our patio.

A fuzzy Friday in mid-August calls for the world to pause and stop spinning, just until you get a gander at these beauties.

A promise is something I take very seriously, so here is the fulfillment of the promise to let you know how this hibiscus bouquet turned out. As expected, the flower lasted about the same length as it would in its typical outside environs – perhaps maybe going a little longer without any direct sun and wind to zap its energy and cellular structure. Eventually though, within the second day, the petals wilted, and it began shriveling up to the point where it shrunk back inside its vase.

Verdict: good for a single dinner party if picked right before it begins.

When the bloom is bodacious enough, all you need for a bouquet is one.

Embodying a minimalist tablescape (read: laziness or I just don’t give a fuck anymore) this single hibiscus bloom forms the centerpiece for a dinner table, allowing guests to easily converse above its floral head. They don’t call me piss elegant for nothing. (The mocktail for the evening was a ‘Golden Shower’ so I really do earn the description.)

These photos were taken minutes after I clipped the flower and put it into its vase, so I can’t verify whether hibiscus blooms make for decent cut flowers or not – they usually only last a little more than a day – their show bolstered by numbers rather than duration, not unlike the daylily.

For a dinner party that only lasts an evening, however, this may make for a stunning centerpiece – I’ll let you know how quickly it wilts in a future post.