
We’re not supposed to ascribe human characteristics to anything else, but I can’t help it. Somebody planted white foxtail lilies (eremurus) with alliums to provide height in a white flower border. The alliums are growing as the designer intended – upwards, but the foxtail lilies are demonstrating how they got their name. I’m fully aware that the light is drawing them in that direction, but that doesn’t stop my mind from doing its thing. The alliums are clustering in groups to gawp at and gossip about the wayward foxtail lilies.

And while I’m thinking about clusters of flowers, what must it be like to be a floret in an umbel? These flowers live in harmony and share resources. Each floret is an opportunity. They are not in competition, fanning out just as much as they need to reach their potential. Together they are architectural and impressive; alone, each is simple, sweet, perfect.

Erigeron flowers are happy to overlap: we’d say they are affectionate, were anthropomorphising allowed. They have no concerns about personal space and don’t feel the need to look in the same direction.

Of course plants do compete. To my mind, these geraniums are in the cheap seats at the theatre or a concert, but some are unwilling to let the loosestrife enjoy their advantage. It takes me back to seeing New Wave bands live when your elbows sometimes had to be out to afford a deterrent to anyone jumping too vigorously around you, especially if you had ventured down to the front. Those were the days!

And does the flower know when it is foraged by something furry, and swung by the weight of the bee?
We know that the leaves of the sensitive plant (Mimosa pudica) curl up when they are touched, but may not consider that every plant is sensitive to touch and vibrations. Yet it’s true. While plants might not be tickled by bees (let’s hope for their sake they are not) scientists have shown that plants can respond to the activity of pollinators by rapidly increasing the sweetness of their nectar. Making nectar is an investment for a plant: varying its sweetness is a way of conserving resources.

I’ll leave you with a striking flower with undeniably character. You may have a different perspective, but I find it hard to see this one as anything but a demanding little monster.
Shared for SquarePerspectives.
I always suspect that leaning sunflowers are trying to photobomb my garden shots.
Innocent until proven guilty, remember… but then if you have a lot of pictures to prove it…