We can’t all be superstars.
Because then our superstars would no longer be superstars.
And if our superstars are then no longer superstars, we were never superstars in the first place.
Simple, right?
I’m a deep guy (as evidenced by my preceding well conceived hypothesis) and I carry that deepness out into the garden. While all of you get all sorts of pumped up for the tulips or daffodils to bloom, I’m on my hands and knees appreciating the more subtle and less valued signs of spring.
Exhibit A – Boxwood ‘Green Mountain’ blooms:
Read any description of a boxwood and in small fine print at the end of the paragraph you’ll find the term “insignificant flowers”. Really? Don’t you think they worked hard to produce those flowers? They are filled with nectar and pollen; so what if the bees aren’t around to find it. That’s their loss.
Exhibit B – Carex (cultivar unknown – damn nursery and their lack of labeling) and it’s brown/tan flowers:
I cut these back just a week ago and boom, just like that they produced these flowers. Again, their flowers are labeled as “insignificant”. I like them. They’re unique. Sorry they’re not all yellow or red or blue. Brown is a color last time I checked.
Listen, I love big showy flowers as much as the next guy. I geek out on the developing Viburnum blooms like the one below:
Anxiously awaiting for them to transform to this:
But I got love for all flowers and you should too.
Who’s with me?
John
Very nice; sort of secondary flowers.
beauty has been and always will be in the eye of the beholder
I’m also watching the buds developing on the Viburnum. The timimg of the buds opening just coincides with the Daphne Odora going past their peak with is the perfect perfume transition for me in Spring.
We’re on the same track. I just scheduled a post on my blog on the maple flower. Yes, another significant flower and yet one I always appreciate in spring. It tells me the leaves will be coming shortly. YAY!
Does your brain ever rest? Where do you come up with the ideas for your blog?! BTW – nice recognition for the ‘little guys’ in the garden.
The carex pictured without nursery labels is C. morrowii.