Worth the wait

When we went shopping on Wednesday, the Fox decided to buy me some flowers, some lilies. All the bunch was closed. Since then we've watched eagerly, & increasingly anxiously, for some sign of them opening up. Nothing. The water remained crystal clear. Some of buds gained a translucent orangeness, only really noticeable as the back light streamed through the bud. We were beginning to think they would never open up.

Then, on Saturday night, the first four flowers came into full bloom. Suddenly there were these majestic apricot coloured blooms. Magnificent. Throughout yesterday, we stopped to wonder & gaze on their glory.

I noticed things I hadn't observed before. I never realised before the petals of the flower were arranged as two three-petalled rings. Nor that the pale red dots on the petals are in fact slightly raised, hairy, almost barbed. This morning I became aware of a tear drop of something on the stigmas. They glisten in the bright morning light of today.

The colour of the pollen on the anthers is a rich paprika red, a glorious contrast with the paler yellowy orange of the petals.

All in all it's been a worthwhile wait. Now I eagerly look forward to the other buds opening up. I hope the open flowers last long. Each day it's wonderful to see the changes & rejoice in them.

Sunflowers

In the pot of sweet peas near the back door, a huge sunflower has appeared, self-seeded of course. It has been a source of great frustration to me. I've often fancied growing some sunflowers. They're big, bold and cheery. They also would provide plenty of free seeds for the birds. But, and this is a big but, whenever I've planted some seeds, the birds have as quickly dug them out & eaten them then & there. So it is with great amazement I view this specimen. It stands several feet tall. The flower is just opening up. It will be several inches across, cheery indeed.

Sunflowers I associate with two places above all. The first time I really appreciated them was when we were staying in the Loire valley. We drove up a hill to gain a view of the river below & of Chinon. Up there there were fields of sunflowers. It was autumn so they were starting to turn brown & dry, ready for harvesting for their oil. This was clearly a farmed field. The lines of flowers were just too regular for anything else. In French, we learnt, sunflowers are called "tournesol", because they turn (tourne) to the sun (le sol) throughout the day.

My next memory of them was at Gouda in the Netherlands. They have regular colourful markets there. One of the most spectacular stalls sold flowers. The sunflowers were splendid. Everyone seemed to be buying them. Homes throughout the area must have been decorated with them.