I’ve been thinking a bit about flowers over the last few days.
It started with a friend’s tweet “He used to give me roses, I wish he would again” (remember Prisoner?)
Then I was lucky enough to be given a beautiful bunch of tulips.
There is something about giving and receiving flowers that creates an emotional reaction. It has been this way for centuries and across cultures. Flowers can symbolise everything from a simple thoughtful gesture through to declarations of love. Certain flowers have been seen as sacred (eg lotus), and there is an entire ‘language’ of meaning of particular flowers. Flowers are always around at significant events such as births, deaths, and marriages. In fact archeological remains of a neanderthal burial site suggests flowers were deliberately placed in the grave.
Regardless of meaning, the beauty and fragrance of flowers speaks to us.
I’ll leave the last words about flowers to a poet. The following few lines were taken from Sylvia Plath’s poem “Tulips”. The writer received some flowers while recovering in hospital. The red tulips in the poem forcing her to re-engage with health and life.
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free –
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.