FLOWER FRIDAY - DAHLIA

Each time we come into our cul de sac, we have admired the beautiful dahlias in one of the front gardens, and have watched them growing into enormous blooms.  Both Mr. HCB and I remarked that we hadn’t seen such beautiful ones for many years and that made us reminisce about Bill Williams, a Welsh tenor who sang in our church choir, but whose passion was his dahlias.  He died about 40 years ago - but we still remember his dahlias.  He was so proud of them and when our boys were small we always stopped and had a chat with him because he was always working on them in his front garden.  

I didn’t just want to take a photograph of these dahlias without asking permission so I went round to knock on the door last night and met a lovely Indian lady and her son.  When I explained about Blip and told her what I would like to do she said she was happy for me to come back in the morning, when her husband would be there.

I went round just before 10.00 a.m. and met Thomas, who said he was quite happy for me to take photographs, and then asked if I would like to see his back garden - you can imagine, I jumped at the chance.  There were more beautiful dahlias and marigolds and also two grape vines, runner beans and an apple and pear tree - Thomas is obviously a keen gardener and told me he loved being out there.

I was curious to know why he had planted dahlias, as to me, they seemed a very “English” flower and he explained that when they lived in India, they had a large garden and grew them there.  I also learned that dahlias originated in Mexico and are actually their national flower, so not as English as I thought!

Thomas cut two of  his “spiky” pink dahlias for me to bring home and I am very grateful to him and his wife for being so kind.  I have invited them round to see our garden and to bring their young son - I said we have lots of Lego - so they said he would be happy!  I have put one of the other pink dahlias in as an extra.

Flowers are nature’s messengers
     Reminders of an unspeakable beauty.
Jonathan Lockwood Huie