You know how it is, when you get a phrase stuck in your mind and it repeats round and round on an endless loop? Just at the moment, the phrase I can’t shake off is the quotation from John Cage:
I have nothing to say and I am saying it.
It’s pretty much the truth. But even if I have nothing to say today, at least I am saying it here with passion (flowers).
If someone asked me what my favourite flower was, I’d probably say the daffodil. But there are so any types of daffodil or narcissus that that isn’t a particularly helpful answer.
True, there are very few daffodils that I don’t like, and if someone were to give me a bunch of King Alfreds or Pheasant Eyes or even the fluffy looking Cheerfulness, I’d probably be equally delighted.
Continue reading “daffodils in august”
I think there are certain flowers and plants that you just have to admire.
True, I would probably immediately love the poppy for the inner contradiction it displays with the brash scarlet colouring and the paper-fine delicacy of its ballerina-skirt petals.
Continue reading “tenacity”
It’s a bank holiday here in the UK, which means that – by my own rules- I should have written a blog post today. Sadly, though, I haven’t been feeling very inspired.
Rather than let myself down completely, I decided to look for a photograph to post.
Although, of course one photo isn’t enough, as I also need a header image. So, having found a rather lovely flame-coloured rose in full bloom, I had to find another picture to accompany it. The distant cousin – probably a dog rose though perhaps a sweet briar – seemed a reasonable choice, particularly as both pictures were taken within the last week.
Continue reading “the same but different”
I mentioned last weekend that salmon pink geraniums always remind me of Elizabeth Goudge’s delightful book The Little White Horse. The book is a firm favourite of mine, read again and again when I was a child, and no doubt I’ll read it again with pleasure whenever I manage to retrieve my books from that storage locker in central Spain.
Despite being brought up in a time when blue was for boys and pink for girls, I was never that fond of pink, so perhaps it was Loveday Minnette’s love of the flowers in the book that has made salmon pink my favourite among geraniums. A close runner-up is red – the bright, bright red that verges on vermillion.
Continue reading “memory of colour”