I cannot imagine a day without flowers in it, or of not having flowers in my home. Monsieur Monet obviously agrees with me. What is it that he said? Something about having flowers always and always? One of my favourite floral quotes is by Vita Sackville-West. She wisely said –
‘a flowerless room is a soulless room… but even one solitary living flower may redeem it’.
Isn’t this so true? A room is never at its best without flowers, and even a single bloom has the ability to bring a room to life, create ambience and emotion, put the imperfectly perfect into the perfectly imperfect, and just generally delight the senses in every way.
Plonk a few haphazard blooms into a jam jar like I did today with the dahlias and roses in this image, and you’ll see what I mean. I’m the sort that has to have some fresh flowers on my desk before I start work. Call it a work ritual or just another form of procrastination, but when I’m having a ‘desk day’ the first thing I do is go out into the garden to find a few fresh floral snippets for a vase on my desk. Instantly the most drab space is transformed. And the overwhelming to-do list is possible. It truly can be that simple.
Put simply, flowers make everything beautiful. Perhaps it is because it is that little bit of living colour, a small piece of nature transported indoors. A little beauty in the everyday, speaking to the present moment and the season, and what is outside in the garden, ready to be picked and brought inside to be enjoyed and appreciated.
Garden flowers or roadside weeds, flowers are a simple pleasure that to me bring almost infinite joy. I joke that I would probably spend my last dollar on either flowers or coffee, but actually, this is quite possibly true.
Though I have a tiny garden, there is nothing quite so lovely as being able to pick flowers that I’ve grown to bring inside and arrange.
The most beautiful Wellington summer that I can ever remember has not been a good one for gardeners. It has however been exceptional for garden bugs. Which is why I’m trying to keep a stiff upper lip every time I look out at what should be a vibrant and flower-filled dahlia border, and is instead a mite-ravaged disaster zone.
I’ve cut everything back in the hope that I can somehow stop the march of the mites, and the clouds of whitefly. The few flowers that do manage to bloom are prized all the more for their rarity. A little extra attention never hurt anybody. And next year they’ll bloom again, beautiful forgiving treasures that they are.
Lucky then that I think that the simple gesture of some wildly random garden flowers is as beautiful, if not more so, than the grandest floral arrangement. This summer may not have been as florabundant as I’d hoped for, and the flowers are often quite solitary, but there is still a little beauty in my every day, my rooms are not soulless, and for that I’m especially thankful.
(photography and styling by Amanda Holland for perfectly imperfect living)