Flower Friday: Anemones

"A Lover's Messengers"

The earliest flowers of spring
To thee, beloved, I bring:
Anemone and graceful adder's-tongue,
With golden cowslips, yellow as the sun
And fresh as brooks by which they sprung;
Sweet violets that we love; and, one by one,
The blossoms that come after,--cherry blossom
And snow of shad-bush, willful columbine
In pale red raiment, and the milky stars
Of chickweed-wintergreen; slim walnut buds
In satin sheen, and furry curling ferns,
Like owlets half awake; with floods
Of alder tassels that drop dust of gold
On the dark pools where, 'twixt the bars
Of piercing sunbeams, speckled troutlings dart.
And thus until the jocund year is old
And frosts spin cerements, white and chill,
O'er all the woodlands, fold on fold,
I tell the days with flowers, to mind thee still
Who, kind to blossoms, to me cruel art,
How swift is time, how constant is my heart.

Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918)


I can't remember a time when this painting of a bowl of anemones wasn't hanging on the wall of wherever I lived.  It was painted by my late aunt, Mum's oldest sister Christine Greenfield, who was a trained professional artist working in oils and watercolours.  We have quite a large number of her pictures, mostly watercolours of various British scenes, but this is my favourite which Mum and Dad allowed me to have many, many years ago.

I had a very quiet Friday.  It was far too wet and grim outside for much of the day to go out anywhere, so I spent some time studying for my confirmation course and ironing clothes to pack for my next stay at Mum's.