[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 11 February 2022].
From Wikipedia: During the Victorian era, the hollyhock symbolised both ambition and fecundity in the language of flowers.
in abundance
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 5 February 2022].
Hello, my friends.
The past two weeks have been heartbreaking, so I hope you forgive me for missing my usual travel-themed post on Tuesday.
I spent much of the past week or so trying to edit the photographs I have of Anthony and Anthony and me around full-time work, grieving, and an overwhelmingly small amount of sleep.
I shared a gallery I created on my website on social media shortly after the funeral. As I'm in London and the funeral was in Melbourne, I tuned in at 03:00 and finally turned in at 05:15.
I'm still in shock, and I know that will last for a while. Alongside other feelings of grief.
These flowers are Dimorphotheca ecklonis, a type of daisy. And Campanula poscharskyana, a Serbian bellflower or trailing bellflower.
I have no knowledge of the meaning of these flowers and no witty puns on their names. I enjoyed their colour and brightness after a couple of weeks of darkness. And the elongated pot felt a little like it belonged in a cemetery (though found in a garden in Rye back in 2016 that had nothing to do with death!)
Normal service will resume shortly. I promise. Thank you for bearing with me x
pink petunias
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 28 January 2022].
From Wikipedia: The Maya and Inca believed that the scent of petunias had the power to ward off underworld monsters and spirits. Their flower-buds were bunched together for magical drinks. According to New Age folklore, Petunias will only thrive where there is "positive energy" and will not grow in places where there is "negativity".
When given as a gift, Petunias have (in the language of flowers) two mutually exclusive meanings, symbolising on the one hand being comfortable with someone, and on the other anger and resentment.
A somewhat clichéd image, the interpretation of petunias in the language of flowers feels appropriate right now.
It's a tribute to how comfortable I felt with my friend Anthony at all times. And the anger and resentment I feel in waves (mingled with melancholy and intense, overwhelming sadness) for the fact that his life was cut short.
And so many of the comments and posts I've seen about him since he passed highlight his gentle nature, positivity and enthusiasm.
tall poppies
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 January 2022].
silky oak
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 January 2022].
I thought this year I'd change things up a bit and share some of my vast quantity of floral images on Fridays, with the odd fungi image making an appearance.
The change is driven by my supply of fungi images running low for now. Many of my fungi photos were taken on my iPhone and shared on social media soon after.
But also because I want to share the many beautiful images of flowers I have taken over the decades. And they don't really quite fit into the travel category (though often taken while travelling), and, unlike my late bloomers series, these flowers are real.
So, I'm kicking off my new series of #FloralFriday posts with two photos I took back in 2009 of the striking yellow-gold flowers of a silky oak tree in Redland Bay, Queensland.
During my childhood, my parents and my grandfather tracked down various items of furniture made from the silky oak tree.
They sanded them back, varnished them and furnished our homes with them. Two sideboards and a dining table and chairs I grew up with were lovingly restored, among other items. And more furniture in my grandparents' home in Canberra.
Growing up, I never realised these flowers grew on the same trees the furniture I was surrounded by during my childhood were fashioned from.
I've decided to call this curated series a floral tribute.