104 Take the path to a crescent moon and back

Tonight

It took just a few very unsure, apprehensive minutes to another unknown destination. Not knowing why we follow a trail, but when we do, that few minutes can be the start of a strange journey, with the most rewarding of realisations.

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 To follow the trail…….

9.30pm. Take the soft footsteps from the dropping poppies across the path, to the worn pine needles of the falling giant at the end of the street. Round their corner, where the monkey puzzle tree lives, veer left around the bend,
Look right, look left and right again to the white birch on the green patch. Then look up.

Remember, there was a breeze, but the clouds did not move and you could not work out why. If a motionless sky could be prepared for Constable to paint it, this will be it.

Permission to be amazed is only ever a temporary grant, but it can happen many times, and then the reason why the clouds did not move whilst the air definitely did waft above your skin and brush with the trees, will begin to appear.

Because around that road bend, there is another curvature. A generously sized crescent moon makes a double entrance, once, a grand appearance when you least expected it, but twice because it was always there. Straight ahead,  centre street, balanced above the trees, it hangs. All one has to do is to turn that corner to see it.  A glorious luminesce underlined with an intense watery signature of a thunderous deep, smoky blue cloudband.  This will be stretching its might across the horizon, some 240,000 miles below.

But In microseconds, the great universe is on the move again. Is that La Luna cutting down through the clouds as a great laser scythe with precision and purpose in surgery, or is it the clouds rising to serve as a cloak to provide rest, protection and secrecy for this enchanting host? No one will ever be sure of where the fine boundaries of “what is” and “maybe”, starts and finishes.  In the blink of a light second,  that once mighty river of cloud will have slipped its guise without notice and into a vapoury and spidery nebula, revealing the moon to become clearly visible once again.

The illusion of encroaching darkness is that it makes the brightness of light more intense, yet it is darkness that will provide the most surprising revelations. In the universe’s own time, a crescent journey of half-light is able to illumine a trio of seasons in one night, where autumnal mountain ash and wintry holly now appear in the same solar breath as summer fuchsia.

Only with such a liquid light and on an airy evening, do Autumn and Winter dare emerge with their outlined, but defined presence on the edge of Summer, but in the vacuum of impossibility, through a curve in one night of the universe, there are those dual moments when everything makes sense and nothing really matters, and nothing makes sense and everything matters.

On a curve, everything and the very thing is on the edge.

Allow your mind to take you there.

10.17pm

© 2015 La Floralie


103 Suspended in evolution

Floating in the light years

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Prehistory’s future.
The primeval lily of willow woods,
A climber rising from darkened forests,
Ambitious to see the sun, but always yearning shade.

Papery petals in white
With cool smooth touch,
Romantic, aspiring to feel the waxing moon
But shy, scentless, skinny, with appearance of complicity

The doomed bloom
Remained unchanged. An eternity of primitive simplicity.
With its white face softer than light in High Summer duskings
It brings the day’s end with a glowing translucence and backlit canvas.

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A screen of shadow play.
Transparent truth and illuminations
Stirring shadows of nearby neighbours,
Infatuated with self, they send an echo of love to stir the stamen’s trust.

But modern branches bend and crack;
Under the subtle watch of the crawling vine
A china sky will fragment between the spinal twists of wood,
As Convolvulus Cneorum imprints its memories of forsaken eons with no regret.

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© 2015 La Floralie


102 Summer afternoon in the Jungle……..

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The suburban jungle……4.2 billion years in the making to get here,  right by me. Pluto, Pluto  3 billion miles away…….10 years to travel….Imagine being away for a decade. The exchange of 10 years of time for one right moment.  A life’s work in an incredible 8000 miles distant photoshoot, all in the passing at 14km per second on 14 /15 July. Without doubt you must be a marvel. The world is ecstatic. But will you honestly, truly, deeply, contain more remarkable promise than what we already possess?

I would hate to waste these moments. I don’t wish to give this up, but I will think of the photoshoot and a desolate landscape awaiting tentative colonisation and curiousity. I hope it will bring a great and fulfilling future. But a future with no flowers, is a future with no powers. And I so love it just here.


© 2015 La Floralie

101 When the backbones of Julius burn the waters, to brittle with thickened blood

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July does not freeze the pain of passing beauty

Nor the hopeful future of greening youth

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They both reach a new destiny.

For those whose breath completes the height of a summer

There is esprit.

Blessed with no desires

There is no pain.

Complete waterlessness awaits.

There is no pain

Complete waterlessness awaits.

And we will float and float and float.

© 2015 La Floralie


100 The Saharan trail mix of Magnolia Grandiflora

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Come early July 

…….in England and not before, these Gulf blooms will be ready.

Once in high summer, Wisley Gardens in Surrey, England I smelt this flower and had not experienced anything quite like it. Its intense perfume is the call of the exotic. If a flower ever wished to compete  with a rose in its perfection, fragrance and then empress status in its gigantic blooms, this must surely be it. One becomes locked in attention to its sheer magnificence.

Thornless, waxy  and evergreen, able to reach for the sky with inaccessibly high blooms and frustratingly visible, the flower will be just out of reach.  With majesty and grace it is unapologetic  “Look, admire, but you may not touch!”

After seeing a few trees in full bloom in Paris exactly this time last year, I was amazed to find a member of flora royalty gracing a small corner garden in my local neighbourhood, but so grateful I had caught sight of it. A grand gesture for a simple house with a garden defined by a washing line of clothes and  a neat rainbow collection of pegs. This tree was left to a life to look over the garden wall.

I have been watching this tree for 2 days.

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Friday I passed,  and saw how on a day of cloud, this closed bud was not at all ready to socialise.  I thought it would take another few days to open. Yesterday morning it was tight shut, but by afternoon, little did I know to its intentions.

After the nights thunderous rain and awaiting for the sunlight to become stronger, the blend of that watering and humidity, and that blossom had burst open.

Sunday, the  mid morning’s warm air on the back of my neck moved my footsteps towards the tree,   beckoning me to observe its progress once again.  Of course it would only perform to ‘open’  in the right circumstances. One could hear the silent thoughts:

“…do not have illusions of grandeur if you can not live up to them, the weather and light must be absolutely right….”

Just a few hours earlier when the light had been unsure, everything was held in delicate balance.  Unless the sky was going to clear and the sun to shine its brightest, for all flora  to be seen, Magnolia Grandiflora is not just going to flower in its own company. It might be independent, but it begs maximum attention to justify expending its immense energy. Such is this resource one to make a wise investment, or risk a waste for fragrance to be lost in mediocrity. Its scent perfumes are beyond the power of any other flower.

Today’s Saharan warmth had done its job, travelling across continents, it had followed its southern beauty to waft its intense, sweet balminess from the perfect white cup into the world around it.

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Few will ever care to look, or view upwards within such a modest brick wall habitat  to see where such a rich aroma will be originating. Such is the clever wisdom to keep one’s riches hidden, only on view for those who wish to see it. This must be one true floral statement in omniscience. It knows, sees and has everything.

© 2015 La Floralie