Gift from a neighbour

Even before the doorbell rang, through the side window, I could see someone holding flowers.

Our neighbour from across the street, dressed in paint-splattered coveralls was holding a fresh bouquet of peonies. I thanked him profusely, being the demonstrative (silly) human being that I am, when he politely admitted they were really from his wife. As I accepted the wet bouquet, I made sure to redirect my appreciation to his wife on my behalf. As he was shyly walking away I also told him that peonies were definitely my favourite flower, bar none. And they truly are.

Oh the fragrance. I couldn’t help myself. I was so delighted. I readied one of my favourite vases from a local potter and grabbed my camera. I hope you enjoy them even half as much I am. I mean look at the silky petals, their delicate shape, and the deep green, graceful foliage.

A number of beautiful things remind me of my dear mother. Peonies is definitely one of those remarkable touchstones. My mom grew such magnificent peonies. The two shades here being her favourites — how perfect. I remember how she always fashioned homemade wood supports for her peonies each year and took such care to provide them with the support necessary for their balloon-like heads. She always brought some inside and I am always taken back to my mom’s home when I walk into a room with that gentle, sweet fragrance of fresh spring peonies. As Robertson Davies wrote, peonies are “big with significance for someone.”

Oh, and something else that I just remembered. When I used to drive back home to Edmonton to visit, mom would always have a vase of flowers in my room sitting on the dresser beside the bed. At this time of year, it was always a bounty of magnificent peonies. I remember the neatness of the room and the fragrance that welcomed me.

Tell me, what is your favourite flower? Or is there a flower that reminds you of someone very special?