Busy-ness and tired-ness and baking adventures and actual adventures have left me with less time to compose a blog post than I would like.
I’ve been meaning to post photos for a while, so here are a few old photos of flowers that I like. This is paving the way for showing you newer photos of flowers that I like. That is, I like the flower and I like the photo.
I woke to some heavenly scent drawing me from the guest room and into the living room. I wandered around the living room trying to find the source and there it was: a musky syrup clinging to the centre of each gorgeous, tiny star-shaped flower. Each, if I recall correctly, was no more than a centimetre wide.
Hoyas, I subsequently learned, are a particular favourite indoor plant of 50s housewives that have since gone out of fashion. Why are they not more prolific when they are such delightful things? The scent can be overpowering, but so too can jasmine and lavender.
These sweet flowers sat cut in a vase on the kitchen table. I could not help myself; I reached out and touched the furry green-tipped petals. They were soft, almost wool-like. It was no surprise then that the answer to my query, “What are these called?” was “Flannel flower.” I would rub the flowers against my cheek if that did not result in their destruction!
They’re a native Australian flower. I had never before seen one and am not sure I’ve seen one since…
Much more ubiquitous are these little purple orchids irises. They, too, are native Australian flowers.
These are the gentler flowers of Australia. I sometimes marvel at the gentleness of English wildflowers and contrast them in my mind to brazen birds of paradise, outrageously coloured bouganvillea, overwhelming blankets of jacaranda and spiky scoparia. But no, Australia too has its gentler species. Now I have to find some brazen English flowers to completely tear to shreds my “English flora are gentler” theory.
And in case you don’t know what scoparia looks like, it looks like this:
As beautiful as it is, it’s spiky and horrible to fall into, should you lose your footing. Which I did. When the scoparia happened to be above my head height. Ouch.