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© 2010 Elizabeth

Home Part 2 [Flowers]

Yes, one of the other things I love about visiting my parents’ home is the garden. When I was in high school, I had to spend my summer mornings weeding the extensive expanse of landscaping. Now that I am just an occasional guest, I can sit back and enjoy the flowers in a less intimate and grueling way.

Truly, there isn’t much else to be said of these pictures. These are the flowers and trees that I had romantic delusions of nurturing every evening when we were moving in—and quickly realized that my calling was not to be some fairy tail princess in hicksville but some book worm instead. Despite how easy it would have been, I rarely stopped to smell the flowers. It’s gotten me where I am today…back home…smelling flowers.

Roses surrounding a swing set.  This spot strikes me as particularly Secret Garden-esque—further proof that we do not live in movies.  If this was a movie, I would wander through my youthful angst and swing alone, staring longingly at the empty second swing and the someone who wasn’t sitting in it.
Many of the flowers are brilliant in their coloring.  As far as brilliance goes, these far excede any equivalent brilliance residing in my head.
I must admit that this spider is fascinatingly offset against the flower.
I’m sad that I missed our cherry blossoms but the dogwood trees are still going strong!
…I don’t even know what type of flower this is.  When we bought the house, all the plants had labels with their latin names.  In the past years, these labels have been knocked over or uprooted along with weeds so that the only remaining labels are in the rose garden…speaking of which…
I personally do not care for roses.  I find them so painfully laden with socially constructed significance that I cannot divorce their form from the narratives they allude to.  So, while we have a lovely rose garden, I rarely spend much time in it.  Whenever I get flowers, I always have the initial hesitance to inspect them lest they be the deadly red roses—sure to nip any relationship, if you will pardon the expression, in the bud.
We also have a bit of a vegetable garden.  The cherry tomatoes are delightful (but not yet ready to be eaten) and mother swears by the squash.
This is a veiled tragedy.  Beneath the facade of a plump orange, is the withered insides of a fruit that was frozen before it had a chance to be savored.  The oddly cold weather, while doing wonders for our flowers, destroyed our crop or oranges and almost took out our lemons.  We can only hope that the apples, cherries, and pears fair better.
I love vines.  Conceptually they creep me out.  But visually, I find few things more graceful than vines winding up a trunk or pillar.
And here is the end.  When I was little, I loved rockes more than anything.  To be precise, I loved bolders.  I loved climbing up them and declaring them my own (I was bad at sharing things that I had no mean of actually processing).  Nowadays, I don’t try to claim them, but it is fun to take pictures of them.

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2 Comments

  1. Posted June 1, 2010 at 5:45 am | #

    What a lovely photodisplay! Some of the photos are truly spectacular, so vivid and vibrant. I like what you said about the brilliance of the flowers surpassing any brilliance of the mind.

  2. Posted July 22, 2010 at 10:28 am | #

    Nice Orange … I actually grew a lot of iris’s in my garden and we would blow on them in the morning to make them open quicker … they didn’t die either. Pretty pics .. thanks

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