Seeing flowers when I travel always reminds me of my good friend Carole. She was an avid gardener and when we traveled together, you could tell which photos she took and which were mine. Hers were of flowers and gardens and mine were doors, windows and architectural details. I do like flowers too and take more photos of them these days.
I love tulips. We went to Amsterdam in early May a few years ago and I was hoping to see tulips. The floating flowermarket had loads of them but they were all buds, not fully bloomed. Apparently I missed prime tulip season by about 3 or 4 weeks! There were many other speciments like these Esperanza roses but Oh I do wish I’d seen the market full of tulips!
These lovely blooms were on sale at another market, the Bury market in the Greater Manchester area in the U.K. I loved the red of the paper swirling around the red, white and fuschia bouquets.
Another of my favourite photos. I found tulips but they were in Paris in a flower shop in Montmartre. In November! Such gorgeous vivid colours!
And finally, two years ago we visited Cornwall and Devon and stopped in the little town of Lostwithiel. We spotted an old church with a pathway lined with small shoes filled with posies. We had stumbled on a Floral Festival with the proceeds benefiting a hospice and the church. Some of them were quite inventive or had items in the arrangement that represented the sponsor’s business such as a microscope and little antique medicine bottles for the pharmacy. All were so beautiful! The scent inside the church was not overwhelming, surprisingly but it was the essence of spring!
There were flowers outside, too, in the porch, representing the nearby river and a medieval bridge and another around the base of an old Celtic cross. Outside there were a couple of tables with chairs and you could buy tea or coffee and cake, which we did, as the sun was more or less out by then. Besides, it benefited the charities!
I’ve seen wildflowers growing out of cracks in a stone wall around a castle in Ireland. My first impressions of England included wonder at the multitude of flower baskets hanging outside the windows of shops and pubs. Houses with even just a couple of feet of concrete outside the front door had a potted plant in it. The historic botanic gardens in Annapolis Royal here in Nova Scotia has types of roses that date back 300 years, something that might have been presented to Maria Antoinette, perhaps.
Since my friend Carole died, five years ago, I find myself looking closer at flowers, seeking them out. I suppose it’s my way of remembering her on my travels.