Above my writing desk is this 12″ by 10″ framed, bordered photo of a little patch of Heaven. An up close lens focused upon a dense patch of beautiful wildly seeded cottage garden flowers. The photo is a professional one taken in the warm sun blessed Roseland Peninsula, Cornwall. (My mobile phone camera does not do it justice). The micro climate there produces wild flowers with a vibrant radiance, that I have only ever seen in a similar beauty in a meadow on the island of Corfu, when I was young.
In this photo there are a few dainty tall pretty purple spikes, an array of diaphanous white and red paper-thin, (though contradictory) densely coloured poppies, and an abundantly pink ragged, fluffy, oriental poppy, all beseeching the suns rays. The wild grass, fern and weeds are so beautiful, that without their many varying shades of green, the other noble brightly coloured flowers just wouldn’t illuminate. But what I Love above all else in this little patch of Heaven, almost buried beneath the wild brightest reds, pinks, and whites of the floral canopy, in all their humility, is the softer more demurely coloured Lavender/Magdalene blue hues of Love in a Mist. Which I have in abundance in my garden.
Less beautiful, duller, un exotic flower heads, ever patiently waiting to be noticed, wanting to be chosen. Almost camouflaged shy beneath their romantic gentle moss-green fronds. Like blue eyes, observing. Occasionally the wind blows a blue flower head (for a moment) free and bold of its fronds, but otherwise nothing about them allows them to shine in the glory of the other flowers, They will never be as tall, or as graceful, or as bright, or as pure as the other flowers, It is a fact that they will forever be lower, lesser, over looked, and less admired. But I will forever have a special affection for them, for the fact that above all the others they stand out because they are quite different, perfectly charmingly unique. One of a kind, nothing remotely similar, absolutely truly romantic, and forever a beautiful radiant moonlit blue.
When the flowering blue star is over, their round bulbous seed heads (like hands cupped together in prayer) hold so much promise for each new year. And yet each new year they are forever super seeded and over shadowed by the newly prolific, enthusiastically received single new virgin stems of the welcome poppies. I noticed one year there was a drought, the poppy colours became pale and insipid, their attendance was less and lacking, the flowers did not sparkle, they went over quickly, and soon as they could they fell away. But still the romantic blues and the misty feathery green fronds of Love in a Mist were ever true and all enduring. Loyal, self-seeding their Love. Not warranting to be ignored, dodged, avoided, disregarded, overlooked, extracted as a self seeded weed and removed, else plain old endured.
But in an endearing romantic mist, Loved, and uniquely beautiful.