The advantage of this unintended photo essay of the flora in the front gardens of Shelbourne Road (and, as I’ve realised, a stretch of Upper Grand Canal Street), is that in the process of paying close attention to the flowers that are blooming I have been able to appreciate them in different stages of blooming.
Here’s an example of a rose that was photographed two days apart (though the change actually happened overnight).
I looked for the rose again this morning only to find that this flower, and the handful of others that bloomed around the same time, have already wilted.
Four bells of these per stalk (I’ve now been advised this is the Common Foxglove) have turned into a veritable column of pink and purple.
And of course, every day I look at the late Dr. Hussey’s garden in anticipation of the blooming of the giant daisies.
As you can see, they’re taking their time but a couple of them have appeared and more are on the way! I love the chaotic wilderness of her garden. There is no order and at first glance it may even look as if it is an abandoned little plot full of tall weeds. But then the roses exploded into giant red orbs. There was a tall lily-like flower in the back I couldn’t get a good picture of, and the daisies are slowly starting to dot the sea of green with their yellow and white lights. I’ve loved watching how slowly the daisy blossoms open up:
And even new leaf growth has become interesting to observe, like featured fern-like image at the top – the ever increasing pattern of leaves at right angles to each other instantly made me think of fractals. I am also noticing buds more than ever and wondering what sort of flowers they will turn into. I would have had no idea that the buds on the left below would turn into the flower on the right, for example:
And some are still a mystery to me. The one on the left below looks like an errant offshoot of a non-flowering bush that I frequently see as a garden border. But what will the one on the right become?
The Feathered Rose 