While I typically favor brightly colored flowers, when it comes to roses, I choose yellow.
I spied this rose earlier today and had to take a photo. (I hope my neighbor doesn’t mind.)
There’s so much promise and poetry here. And polarity. You can’t touch the stem (so thorny), but the petals (so soft) are buttery. Hoping this rose and its cousins hang on as long as the season allows.
My neighbor’s roses look pretty crispy, but these flowers are so fresh.
Although the late afternoon sun is weak, these colors seem to sparkle.
At some point I should get tired of photographing flowers, but I don’t think I ever will.
The Show Room is pretty empty, but I always find something interesting at the Garfield Park Conservatory.
Flower petals that look like a pinwheel.
Bromeliads in varying sizes and colors.
A bright pink tropical flower. So perfect.
The current main attraction is a 60-year-old agave plant whose flowering stalk measures more than 38 feet.
This agave blooms only once before dying. Bittersweet to see, but very special.
The flora and fauna of northern Illinois create some cool shapes and patterns.
The heart-shaped leaves of Brunnera.
These orb-shaped buds.
And the crinkled edges of Sedum. I know I’m going to miss all this greenery when autumn ushers in. Best to appreciate summer while we still have it.
Hydrangeas–love them much. These Annabelles look like they were put in the dryer for a 10-minute fluff cycle. So puffy.
Depending on soil acidity levels, hydrangeas can turn shades of blue and purple.
They’re the ultimate perennial mood ring. And thirsty ones.
The hydrangeas in front of my apartment building took a beating last week. Too hot and not enough water. So I grabbed some water bottles to feed the hydrangeas. Took five trips up and down the stairs to my apartment, but I got the job done.
All vines need a queen, right? Clematis is a showy sort. Journal-sized blooms in varying colors.
The petals are fleshy to the touch (clematises are often called leather flowers). This one is called the President, but I’d call it the Queen.
Springtime perennials bloom at a pretty fast clip in the Midwest. The bridal veil spirea had its hurrah for about two weeks, which was replaced, seemingly overnight, by allium.
A tennis ball-sized cluster of tiny, spiky purple flowers. Perhaps predictably, these said adios in about two weeks when hello, peonies.
Some of the peony blossoms are the size of a small ham–huge by most standards. These have hung on a bit longer, and my neighbor’s roses are starting to take off.