Behold one of the most enchantingly-monikered flowers out there – the forget-me-not. Little clouds of sky-blue blooms drift at ground level, lending a magical aspect to their blooming season. The forget-me-not likes to re-seed – the ones seen here were found along an informal path in Maine, well outside the bounds of any formal garden scheme. They’ve naturalized a little patch there, and flourished without any apparent care or cultivation. I love a hardy soul that happens to be pretty too.
Folklore and fables have it that the name came about from some suitor who was wooing a woman. Upon picking a bouquet of these flowers he lost his footing and fell into a nearby river, crying out ‘Forget me not!’ as he was carried down to his death. Straight people are so dumb.
Surely there’s a better tale to be told about this exquisite little flower.
If not, let’s make one up.
A new romance. A new history. A new tale to tell the world.
Something not to be forgotten…
