A chilly day keeping the insects down and blossom spilling in the blustery wind.
Generally, mums do not admit to having favourite children but clearly sometimes they do. The evidence seems to point far more to a mother’s experience during pregnancy than the behaviour of the child, although immediate post-natal experience also has some bearing… placid babies that sleep a lot definitely win out over those who wail for hours, particularly the small hours when mum is desperate to sleep. However, apparently, the reactions that make a mum favour one and shun another is mostly a chemical reaction. I’ve always favoured nurture over nature to explain most things, but the minutiae of life is hard to pin down and assign cause to, whereas genes and chemistry is easier to compute.
All this is my way of trying to unpick why some flowers raise my endorphin levels and others turn up my nose. So, below is a series of pictures of the oriental poppies in my patch. I didn’t plant them; their seed blew in on the wind and I am annoyed at them being where I intended other schemes.
Oriental Poppies Papaver orientale
They offend my eye on form and colour. Pink is OK in small doses but these blousy interlopers have pink in spades.
Where I planted for a succession of heights these invaders stand taller than the tallest, where the smaller plants should be.
Blooms in nature often have the most perfect geometry and congruence. Complex patterns often display a delightful symmetry, whereas these ragamuffins sport torn shirts and tattered skirts. Their petals fall within a couple of days too… while other flowers can last for weeks.
I just can’t love them!
Obviously, the bees disagree.
On the other hand, flowers I do love are not a million miles away in form and colour. Similar hues like these dianthus or flouncy flowers like the petunias below delight my eye. Go Figure?
I’m going to leave you to judge and I welcome feedback.
