Lilium D Ayter
Flowers call to us. They speak a language we almost hear. Each flower’s color seems an announcement. The single wildflower by the path murmurs its particular name. In a vase, they sing in chorus. Flowers are beautiful and odorous for a reason: to spread pollen and engender their kind. This sublimity of flowers has crystallized into a social code. A bouquet might bear a message. The number of leaves on a decorative branch might indicate the date and time of a secret rendezvous, the blooms the emotional intent of the exchange. From these secret codes for flowers, the “Language of Flowers” was created. Lists circulated, providing sometimes different meanings for each flower. The fragrant tuberose became an invitation to dangerous pleasures. A double daisy was said to mean, “I feel as you do”. So, in ways specific and poetic, sensual and implicit, the urge to name the flowers, to know them and to give them stories, has long possessed us. Even the odor of flowers seems to promise us something.