As you all know I love flowers, herbs, all that sort of thing. I like to have flowers in the house and usually bring in armfuls of herbs thought the summer and then just various bits of greenery in the winter. Then sometimes I am lucky enough to be given flowers by friends.
I put them in a vase and place them where they can be best enjoyed and where intrusive ferret cannot reach them (Harry likes flowers, he also likes the water they stand in, he likes to see if he can stand in the water too. This doesn't usually work and ferret + flowers + water + vase = huge mess on floor and upset Mummy). I admire them, I smell them and then unfortunately I forget all about them.
Yes, I am ashamed to admit that I neglect them and let them wilt and die. These photos are of a gorgeous bunch that Ann brought me a couple of months ago. My excuse for their still being around is that I have been really, really busy of late. In fact I didn't even notice they were still there.
I was about to throw them out when I noticed that they actually looked very beautiful in their less-than-perfect state. They had a faded beauty, a wilted elegance, a texture and a depth that was not present in their more youthful state.
This was a camera moment. When they were at their peak I had no interest in photographing them, they were a nice gift, a pretty bunch of flowers.
However in this aged moment they have pattern and interest, they remind me a fabulous textiles with swirling prints. Their colours are faded and softened, a personal memory flashes to mind, of a ball gown my mother had many. many years ago. Layers of chiffon in the most delicate soft shades, just like the faded glamour of these flowers, a colour match forty years on.
From merely picking up a vase of dead flowers ready to toss them out, I was surrounded by memories deep and long forgotten, by images of design on old textiles seen long ago, and struck by the beauty of them right now.I couldn't throw them out. They had another weeks' grace in the kitchen.I do hope the same applies to us. That we really are more beautiful and interesting with age, that the flush and fire of youth is replaced by a better beauty of spirit and mind, but that there is still an outer beauty too, changed but definitely present.The flowers are in the bin now. Must find myself a gorgeous man to replace them…………