Florals of Spring Art & Story © by Sandra Russell

Spring Florals Original Art (c) Sandra Russell

 

Florals of Spring

Art & Story © by Sandra Russell

Springtime means flowers. Face it; even if you are a person who does not cut or pick bouquets of flowers to bring into the house, even if you are not blown away by the surprise of seeing crocus, or daffodils popping up in clusters where only winter's footprint left a brown patch of muddy leaves and a debris of crushed tree bark: even if you are not a planter of flowers; boxes of petunias along the window ledge, pots hanging from macramé straps, or from long iron hooks; even if you are not one of these folks; if you have a working nose the flowers will find you. 

Take a step outside. The scent of the flowers will become a part of the breath you take. You have absorbed a floral note. Haha, just having fun with this, but maybe you want to sing a little like the birds around you? Focusing on a scent is a bit like tasting. Smelling hot bread, or apple pie before you take a bite has already been experienced as a taste in your mouth, right? So where does the scent of flowers go? Not the mouth so much, maybe to the heart, the mind's memory of love. For me, the scent of flowering trees fills me with a sense of fullness, but almost a gluttony...'more please'...I want to hold this moment a bit longer. So, I pick some flowers to bring into the house, they look gorgeous, even just a few in a jar can transform the feel of the room. Stalks of gladiola in a tall vase, maybe mixed with some lilacs and lilies has a majestic presence that can turn a hovel into a castle. The power of the eternal memory and beauty of flowers is for anyone to reach out and touch. But keeping, whether left outdoors or plucked for the table, that is the brief transience of the flower, as you pass by you catch it, like blown kisses you catch with your heart.