I'm not sure when I became such a fan of peonies. They are considerably more frilly than I am after all, a totally incompatible match for me. And yet, I find them strangely compelling. They are bright, effusive, like that over the top, vaguely annoying yet totally entertaining and fiercely loyal friend that you love to be irritated by.
So when I saw that my dear Mr. James Durr had them last week I nearly fainted in rapture. When I took them home they were tight little buds, and I had no idea how idiotically huge they would become upon opening.
But after a day or two, they were like exuberant pom poms sitting on my bathroom sink, and made me smile each time I walked by.
But I walked in the door this evening and saw the saddest sight.
Peony petals in my sink. And my one pink one is wilting.
Which means that my giant fluff balls are not long for this world. Such is life I suppose. Thank goodness that there are more where they came from.
5 comments:
How pretty! I actually love peonies in all forms--including decay. Something about the petals strewn around a vase and the floor seems very romantic to me.
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Sounds lovely
It is wonderful when there are things that just make us smile
I love the beautiful pink puff balls that are peonies, ever since I saw them en masse at the Boboli Gardens in Florence. They look just as beautiful in your bathroom. What a gorgeous post.
Lee - I ADORE the Boboli Gardens. My sister and I had the most magical afternoon there one March many years ago. Too early for peonies though, but you've inspired me to go back in warmer weather now!
Ah, flowers. They are ephemeral beauties....which makes them maddening and all the more precious.
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