The (Body) Language of Flowers in The Common Room
- Nov. 15, 2013, 7:20 a.m.
- |
- Public
Texas has some weird weather. In late October, it got cool- very unusual. It rained a lot - very unusual. Then it got hot and dry again - Usual. The poor plants have a tendency to get mixed up in years like this. I reorganized things a bit, when the sun came out; put a little top soil from the old house's flower beds into some of the pots, added some shake and feed fertilizer here and there, and took the pots of hostas out of the front yard and put some Chrysanthemums there. I replaced some of the summer periwinkles with pansies and filled in the blank spaces a little.
It has been below 32F for the last two nights. Today, I went out to wrap the sunroom air conditioner in heavy plastic, so that it doesn't let cold air into the house. There was a cold little wind blowing and it seemed that I could hear the flowers talking amongst themselves.
A bowed, pale lavender, petunia queried, in a shivery little voice, "Pansy, does it seem a tad chill to you?" To which an upright deep purple replied "Not so's I notice, my dear."'
A vivid red dianthus complained sharply to her stem-mate "Henry, I told you , just because the sun is on this side of the pot doesn't mean it''s Spring."
Zinnia, who came up from old seed in the soil from an old pot, just two weeks ago, shook a little as he staunchly stood upright, proclaiming "Fall? What Fall? I've just arrived and it's Summer, I tell you. Summer!"
"Steady On, chaps! Steady On!":
A newly reappearing snapdragon seemed to look sharply around saying "What? What? What"
The hostas, huddling together, are silent. They know.
The Japenese Maple is young here, but its lineage is old and wise. Its deep green leaves have a tinge of red. It's humming gently "Turn, Turn, Turn."
In the front rock bed, the old Chrysanthemums put forth their most vivid blossoms in years and fairly shout "Hurrah for Fall"
The decorative grasses have already gone to sleep, but the begonias are as unconscious as ever. They will blossom freely, careless of their beauty, until the cold takes them.
My bee needs re-painting. I thnk I'll take him up tomorrow. He can spend the winter in the garage. I'm sorry that the begonias can't
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