We went to Whiterock Conservancy last weekend for the Iowa Star Party. The big event of the weekend is the Saturday picnic dinner on a lawn overlooking a river, followed by an educational presentation in an old barn.
After dinner, our host, Liz, came around handing out scissors. "Go down to the garden and cut some flowers, and then bring them back up to the house, and we'll put them in Mason jars." I agreed, reluctantly, as I am not much of a flower person, but Liz can be persuasive.
There is a cutting garden down by the river, full of flowers I could not name. I was still a little hesitant, but Liz assured me that we were not cutting flowers for anything particular, just dead-heading them so they would bloom more. I interpreted that as, "Heck, yes, cut the pretty ones." So I did.
Even though I couldn't put a name to most of the flowers, I know good colors when I see them. This garden was at least as big as my house, and a riot of color - sunny yellow, warm gold, peach, pink, deep red, and an occasional pop of purple. Some blooms were as big as my fist, some were little bulbs no larger than my thumb, and some were tall spikes.
Back at the house, we got a beginner's course in flower arranging. Strip the lower leaves so they are not in the water, and don't forget to dress (hide) the rim. Some people made symmetrical clusters of matched flowers. Others just jammed a bunch into the water. I was somewhere in between, not too fussy, but willing to fiddle around a little bit to get a nice balance.
Since I was actually doing something, I left my camera with T. I suspect that by not looking for a way to record the moment, I was actually able to enjoy the moment more. But dang, I wish you could see all of those flowers, and experience the delight of picking the best ones for your own little bouquet.