Flowers of August

                         

From a friend's garden a dozen Augusts ago.

Earth Laughs in Flowers

 

Baby Blues

I think these pretty little blooms are forget-me-nots. They are from a packet of seeds my SIL Fay sent me as a part of my birthday present back in February. I sowed them in seed trays and seem to have lost the empty packet.

They are in pots now, but I might have a go at making a permanent space for them. I like them nearby where I can see their tiny cheery faces. And can keep them well watered.

 

Close-ups

 

The Flowers That Bloom in the Winter, Tra La . . .

... are likely to be hit by a freeze.

Looking Closer

Carolina Geranium/Carolina Cranesbill?

Yesterday morning I weeded till the heat drove me inside. I was stuck by how pretty the tiny (smaller than my little fingernail) weed flowers are. And I realized I wasn't sure of some of the names of these plants I've pulled up year after year.  The picture above, for example. A Google search tells me it's (probably) Carolina Geranium or Carolina Cranesbill.  But is it really?

Creeping Charlie/Ground Ivy

I'm reasonably sure about these next two . . .

Chickweed

Chickweed is abundant. And nice in salads when it's young. But by the time it flowers, it's no longer young.

Yellow Wood Sorrel/Oxalis

In the past I've tended to think of this yellow one as clover because of the shape of the leaves. Wrong! Yellow Clover has a flower that looks like (surprise) clover. This is Oxalis -- like shamrocks.

This little blue bloomer has me stumped -- I can't find it in my wild flower book, nor on Mr. Google. Maybe one of you can identify it.

Smartweed

I think this pink one is indeed Smartweed -- at least that's what a neighbor called it years ago.  

And the one below is Blue-eyed Grass -- which is actually a tiny, tiny wild iris. And it's really blue--I photographed it when the sun was on it and the color is washed out. "Never mind," I thought when I saw the picture on my laptop, "I'll go out later when the sun is off that area and get a better picture." 

But I'd forgotten that the little flowers close in the afternoon. So you'll just have to imagine a rich, clear blue.

The Blue-eyed Grass is non-invasive and rare enough that I don't pull it up. But the others, pretty flowers and all, got pulled up and set aside to enrich the chickens' diet. I know there'll be more.

It was nice to spend a morning outside, looking close and paying attention. Balm for the soul in these perilous and contentious times. 

Blue-eyed Grass

The Dance of the Cosmos

Not the heavenly Cosmos of the astronomers but these simple garden flowers -- pretty heavenly in their own right. . .

"The things by which our emotions can be moved -- the shape of a flower or a Grecian urn, the way a baby grows, the way the wind brushes across your face, the way clouds move, their shapes, the way light dances on the water, or daffodils flutter in the breeze . . ."

The quote is from Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams.

I take a lot of pictures of things that move me -- some are easy to delete -- badly out of focus or lacking the touch of light that brings things to life.

And then I try to be selective in what I put on the blog. Merisi of Merisi's Vienna for Beginners often limits herself to three perfect shots; Jennyfreckles of  Salt and Light  usually has just one.

I marvel at their willpower. 

I can't do that because I always find something compelling in the less than perfect shots (not that there are many 'perfect' ones.

Whether it's the languid droop of a petal, the play of shadows, the hidden bee, the background . . .

The jut and thrust of a stem . . .

The pairing that looks like a lovers' quarrel . . .

No, I can't be a purist. 

Not when I keep finding more to like in each picture.

Seen in July