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Whimsical Wednesday: Flowers

>Whimsical Wednesday: Flowers

Flowers are the voice of God that speak of love and hope when the world is full of hate and sorrow. I have an affinity to flowers. I really like them a bunch. I like them in the gardens, I like them in my home, I like them wild and unexpected in a field along the freeway. They have been written about almost as much as the stars or the ocean. Flowers are my whimsical gift of the day. All the pictures in this post were taken by someone in my family.

“The earth laughs in flowers.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.”
― Georgia O’Keeffe, Georgia O’Keeffe

“I must have flowers, always, and always.”
― Claude Monet

“Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.”
― Heinrich Heine

For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it’s not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble to produce thorns that are good for nothing? It’s not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers? It’s no more serious and more important than the numbers that fat red gentleman is adding up? Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, without even realizing what he’d doing – that isn’t important? If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that’s enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself ‘My flower’s up there somewhere…’ But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it’s as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn’t important?”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

“She wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. She spoke to no one. She spent hours on the riverbank. She smoked cigarettes and had midnight swims…”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

You can not talk about flowers without some memory or image coming to mind. For me they represent everything good and remind me that though beautiful they are tough and even on the craggiest rock a flower can bloom.

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