This past weekend I received this lovely letter from my mom. It was so perfect that I decided I would share it with you for this week’s Flower Friday. Carnation, along with Pinks and Sweet William (which you see more often in the garden) are members of the Dianthus family. Carnation symbolizes pride and beauty.
Letter from Mom…
I just found a color-full printout of the flowers of the month for 2013. I think I got it from you. I checked your blog and I didn’t see one for Carnations, the flower of the month for January. Not my favorite because it frequently appears in sorry-looking last minute grabbed at the RR station bouquets. And sometimes they’re dyed in silly colors…green for St. Patrick’s Day. But I love the spicy fragrance sometimes if you’re lucky to find a fresh one. Also where are the naturally shaped irregularly flowing plants for fall planting? Now they’re over-bred to be full of blooms but artificially shaped. Still there are the fluffy giant ones we wear and love at football games. What’s your take on Carnations?
Love,
Mom
And my response…
As for my perspective on carnations, I feel much the same as you. I think the carnation I like the best is white with ever so slightly edged dark pink. I think they are naturally occurring that way but not certain because it does seem that a carnation’s lot in life is to be dipped in dyes. Up close a carnation is really quite beautiful. An individual petal is so frilly and showy and yet still delicate.
I love you,
Rachel
Sonnet XVII
By Pablo Neruda
I d
o not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
XOXO Rachel
Wondrance 