One thing that fascinates me about the human relationship with plants is our nearly universal love for flowers. From a strictly biological perspective, the attraction doesn’t make immediate sense. The love of flowers seems to speak of spirituality and creativity unrelated to any daily survival concerns. I’m definitely not prepared to dissect this, or veer into philosophy. But don’t you think it’s interesting that we are so compelled by something we don’t usually eat, wear or cure illness with? (Edible flowers are a special topic that I hope to feature in a later blog. Medicinal ones are important of course, but it’s often the bark, leaves and roots that concern us, not the flowers.)

Throughout history, people have assigned plants (flowers in particular) all sorts of symbolic meanings, which are often quite unrelated to their usefulness. In a recent installment of the Garden’s monthly “Twelve on Tuesdays” program for seniors, we offered drop-in visitors the chance to put together miniature bouquets of beauty and meaning.

Using a reprint of a charming little Victorian-era book called The Language of Flowers as our guide to the “secret code” of flower meanings, we used zinnias (thoughts of absent friends), balm (sympathy), chamomile (energy in adversity) and sweet basil (best wishes) to compose a nosegay to give to someone ill or convalescing. Another combination was: honeysuckle (sweet disposition), coreopsis (always cheerful), ivy (friendship, fidelity) and fern (sincerity) to express appreciation to a constant friend.

This was actually quite fun, and it was interesting to speculate on how particular flowers got their significance. I’ll be composing my bouquets with a whole new dimension from now on!

Posted by Ann McCulloh