Category Archives: Flowers

How strange it should be that my major doses of roses this summer have come not from my own garden, or some countryside stand or greenhouse, but rather from a few bushes in downtown Albany which have been blooming their heads off for the past week or so. Such a sight has given life to my lunchtime strolls, and is a reminder that flowers can offer emotional sustenance in the deepest and darkest of downtown corners. 

My relationship with the rose is as basic as anyone else’s, and though we don’t bother with growing them anymore (Andy and I gave up because we don’t have any extra space, or the additional effort the successful cultivation demands) we still love them. In fact, a bouquet of them stands in our den at the moment because I pick them up for Andy from time to time as I know how much he adores them. They remind him of his mother, and so they carry a sentiment that is worth keeping. 

These roses are located in a little corner garden right on Broadway in downtown Albany, where they provide a happy sight to office workers out on lunch or a break – should they choose to stop and smell them. 

The formal peony beds at Suzie’s childhood home – a stately Victorian in black and white perched upon Locust Avenue – were usually my first brush with summer as we celebrated her birthday in early June every year. While the other party attendees focused on the games and silliness that kids are wont to love, I wandered off by myself to see the peonies, in full, resplendent bloom in the gardens away from the crowd. 

They towered up to my height, their heads heavy with petals and peony perfume yet still somehow standing, and their effect was magical. It was a brush with the sublime, one that I’ve held onto through these middle-age years, and one that has kept me company on the cold nights and desolate mornings of winter. They embodied beauty and hope and happiness, bursting with their brilliance and refusing to bow down to subtlety or other expected decorum. Part of me wanted to be just like them, and part of me cowered at their power. In their buds they held all the promise of something spectacular, something moving, something that would change my life. 

Another Itoh peony variety has entered its blooming period, slightly and blessedly behind this sibling to extend the season by a few days. My Mom saw this one in our yard and has wisely decided to put one in her new front garden; it’s a perfect choice for the splendid blooms and handsome foliage that stays fresh and mildew-free for the entire summer season. I’ll keep my eyes open – the Itoh peonies are usually available a little later in the season.

This yellow variety is a bit more fragrant than its predecessor, emitting a spicy tea-like perfume that is akin to this classic tree peony. The effect is exquisite, conjuring an experience that thrills on almost every sensory level. Though the blooming season may not last when compared to other perennials, they come at the most glorious time of the year, and provide such prettiness and perfume that they more than earn a spot of valuable garden real estate. Besides, the blooms are valued more when they are fleeting, and as they denote the freshest time of the seasonal year they will become part of the loveliest summer memories – that time when it was all just beginning, when all was hope and possibility and anticipation. The time before happiness is usually happiness itself.

There is a popular variety of amaryllis named ‘Apple Blossom’ whose name suddenly makes complete sense, as these photos reminded me instantly of that holiday staple. I prefer the real deal, in form, fragrance, and blossom time, so here is an ornamental apple tree at the height of its May bloom. When seeking out an appropriate musical accompaniment, I found this romantic ditty, redolent of spring and love and freshness.

Ornamental apple trees and their sweetly-scented flowers inspire an indulgence of nostalgia, bringing me back to childhood, when I’d attend my brother’s baseball games. I wanted nothing to do with baseball – I was much more interested in walking the woodsy paths surrounding certain baseball fields – so once the game was underway I’d make my exit and sneak into the woods, the chants of ‘no hitter, can’t hit’ fading into the distance. It was like closing a curtain of foliage behind me and entering another realm.

Embracing the quiet and solitude, I studied the plants and trees and life around me. The rustling of a squirrel or chipmunk reminded me I wasn’t ever totally alone, and if I was especially lucky the gurgling of a stream would provide the only soundtrack I needed. It was a treat to come upon water like that, both for its beauty and tranquility as much for the additional wildlife it often afforded. Being land-locked for the first part of my life left me ever-hungry for water in whatever fashion it appeared; oceans, lakes, streams, rivers, ponds, and pools all fascinated me, and the sound of water was some mystical siren’s call.

At this time of the year, all the forest seemed to join in the spring celebration, the ephemerals like Trillium and Bloodroot nodded in the slightest breeze, while in the air the branches of crabapples and other fruit trees were covered in perfumed blooms. I remember climbing into the branches of one of the larger crabapple trees, risking the buzzing of bees to be surrounded by the sweet blossoms, and listening to the muted shouts of a baseball game coming from another world. Birdsong took over, joining the happy humming of the bees, and the moment remains embedded in memory as a brush with the sublime.

The Korean Spice viburnum is not particularly noted for its audacious form or bombastically-colored blooms. Instead, it is the delicious perfume of its flowers that is the main draw. Its foliage is handsome enough to carry the look through the season, and the shrub is used widely in landscaping, which is why I gave up on viburnums long ago – they’re everywhere, which is lovely, but when I’m home I’d rather be anywhere other than everywhere. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate their fragrance at this time of the year, when they’re at their glory. It’s a powerful perfume that rides on the slightest breeze, a magical scent that evokes Gatsby-like springs full of hope and fairy’s wings…

The lilac forms an integral part of many childhood memories; its perfume is enough to bring back any number of magical spring moments. This is the third installment of our purple-hued trilogy, following the violet and the tulip, and it is by far the most gloriously fragrant. 

This is the single-flowered non-hybridized variety, and its simplicity is part of its rustic charm. For all the love so many of us have for excess and frills (guilty as charged) I find my own style preferences leading toward the simple and streamlined the older I get. The love I felt for the ornate Victorian house I once visited as a child has been supplanted for a love of the latest Japandi craze – a cross of Japanese and Scandinavian design. The same thing is happening in my garden. The double-flowered heavy-headed blooms of some plants feel too ostentatious for these times. The pendulum swings back to the simple, and spring should always be uncluttered. 

This little beauty is hardy as hell, and can be invasive and pesky, but when it’s this early in the season – a season that has stalled in rain and cold – I appreciate its color and stalwart power, its insistence on blooming through the gloom. The white and violet version of these flowers are much more ubiquitous, so this pure violet version of the violet is simplicity and grandeur at once. 

Looking around the internet for another song about violets (it’s mostly just ‘Violets For Your Furs’ – a grand song, but surely there were others?) I ended up finding this deep Enya cut, which the singer expounds upon in the notes for the album below. I like the sentiment, and I love when someone does the writing for me once in a while. 

The lyrics for Sumiregusa were inspired by a Hokku, or Haiku, written by the Japanese poet, Basho, while he was traveling to Otsu.

He says that on his way through the mountain road the sight of a wild violet touched his heart.

We have all been moved by the beauty of nature, so I am sure we can all relate to those seventeen syllables that Basho wrote. We have all had a moment that pulls at our heartstrings. One such moment for me was when I was walking in the woodlands and I came across an old, broken, dying thistle. He was such a sad sight. There was a small history in him that would soon be lost. And yet he struggled on. I called him Don Quixote. I went every day to see him until he wasn’t there any more. The following year his children bloomed, he did not return. Even today, although that place has been taken over by the ever vigorous bramble, and there are no signs of any thistles, I still pass by and remember him.

Perhaps these moments are an epiphany.

Perhaps it is our own acceptance of the world and the way it is.

Perhaps it is a celebration of life, or just a moment that is ours alone. In Sumiregusa all of nature is equal in its power to inspire, to move, to touch – from a small pebble to a great mountain, from one green leaf to the many colours of autumn, from the song of birds to a purple flower.
NOTES BY ROMA RYAN

This year something happened to our previously-majestic Kwanzan cherry. After last year’s boffo-bloom, this season there was literally one single bloom on the entire tree. I noticed all the other Kwanzan cherries were bereft of blooms as well, indicating that some climate event had diminished the blossoms. There may have been a stretch of late cold weather that killed off the flower buds – that does happen sometimes. Or maybe it’s simply an off year for them, similar to the way lilacs occasionally take a year off from heavy blooming. 

Instead, we look to the hothouse blooms to cheer our chilly days. Warmth in hue, warmth in the greenhouse. And soon, warmth in the outside. Have faith.

I happened to catch a photo of Longwood Gardens on FaceBook the other day, and it inspired notions of making a pilgrimage to Pennsylvania next winter or spring to find my long-sought-after dream plant, the Blue Himalayan Poppy (Meconopsis).

The quest to see a specimen of Meconopsis has been quietly burning for years, inspired by a book on finding the elusive Shangri-la in Tibet. After realizing that flying to the Himalayan mountains just to see a blue poppy was perhaps too crazy and extreme even for me, I did a little research and found that there were several stands of blue poppies growing in Canada. That was still about ten hours away, and the blooming period ranged from anytime in July to August- and if I happened to miss it, it wasn’t  another trip we could easily make the following weekend.

When I looked on the website for Longwood Gardens, however, I saw that they had a featured list of plants in bloom according to date – and one of them was the Himalayan blue poppy. You cannot imagine my excitement when I realized this dream was within a few hours’ grasp.

Would I travel the world just to find a flower? I would do more than that, and love every moment of it. The mind can travel without setting foot in a car or a plane, and seeking the Himalayan blue poppy had taken me around the world ~ now it’s time for the eye to travel, to seek beauty in the land of Penn’s woods… Sometimes one need not look any further than one’s own backyard. (Or at least a neighboring state.)

These Lilliputian flowers were on display at a nearby nursery, bravely standing up to the chilly air and rain rolling through the area, and doing their best to give cheery countenance to onlookers such as myself. Like pansies, these beauties make for a lovely start to the season, though I don’t dare indulge in planting anything until a few more weeks pass and we are past the frost-free date (usually the first week of May in these parts). Still, I enjoy seeing them elsewhere, and I’m giving a couple to you in this post. 

This bouquet was created last month, when we needed a jump-start on spring, so rather than May flowers, any April showers will bring these March flowers back to mind. I spent all my words on last night’s post, so this is going to be mostly visuals. Make your own story to go with them.