Pollen Nation

Red Osier Dogwood – The Daily Flower for 31 July

An enviable name for a Midwestern country singer, Red Osier Dogwood. And the comely Cornus stolonifera is without doubt an all-American variety. Hell yeah, if it could, this urbane cowboy of the flower world would surely be singin’ what’s on its mind, and jus’ speakin’ plain. So it seems apt that the stateside native connotes frankness – but how the Victorians arrived at the meaning will forever remain a mystery.

Red osier dogwood by Sulfur

Trouble is, for all this talk of forthrightness, the red osier dogwood flower aint red, it’s white. Not bright, shiny, American smiling teeth white, but dull white. And it’s also rather tiny, about a half to one centimeter across, but it grows in clusters, so, despite its size, it still makes quite an impression. And as if that wasn’t enough, the flowers develop into drupes: beautiful white berries tinged with blue. There’s gotta be a ballad in there somewhere.

Good for giving to: Blunt, guileless and forthright acquaintances.

Great red osier dogwoods in literature: To be frank, none.

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Tags: flowers, red osier dogwood , Cornus stolonifera, floriography

Patagonian Mint – The Daily Flower for 30 July

Tongue-trippingly entered on the botanical register as Chrysanthemum balsamita, var. tanacetoides, Patagonian mint also travels by the names of beaver tongue, balsam herb, mace, costmary and alecost. Not Pentecost, mind you, although it was used as a Bible bookmark in the days of knights and castles.

These days, however, you’re more likely to find Patagonian mint listed on the side of a tea box or box of pot-pourri, which is indubitably a more lucrative way of using the aromatic balsamic scent of the little yellow flowers. Whether that behavior constitutes commendable behavior is open to debate; the Patagonian mint’s floriographic connotation of virtue, however, is not.

Good for giving to: Saints and sniffers.

Great Patagonian mints in literature: It looks as if this flower must have been too good for the books.

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Tags: flowers, Patagonian mint, balsam herb, costmary, floriography

Rose Acacia – The Daily Flower for 29 July

Papilionaceae robinia hispida sounds like some kind of scary melding of a butterfly, a songbird and a snake, but it’s actually just a bristly locust. Which is still rather a strange name for the rose acacia plant, with its pink, sweet-pea-like petals.

Robinia hispida

The bristlyness (hispida means hirsute and prickly) describes the plant’s seed pods, but its flowers are far more remarkable. Large, hanging clusters of showy blossoms make this native of south east America instantly recognisable – a great boon for those who like to eat flowers. And for those who like to give flowers to their friends: the rose acacia connotes platonic love.

Good for giving to: Friends (even prickly ones).

Great rose acacias in literature: The count is met by visions of serenity and repose:

“The branches of laburnums and rose acacias formed an exquisite framework to the blue velvet curtains.”
Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

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Tags: flowers, Rose acacia, hairy locust, robinia hispida, floriography

Moonwort – The Daily Flower for 28 July

What would you say to someone who admitted to having a moonwort? I’d say they sounded rather unlucky – even if I didn’t know that they were actually talking about Botrychium lunaria, and that the floriographic connotation for this flower was ‘unfortunate’.

Moonwort (Botrychium lunaria)

Then the question arises as to whether moonwort is actually a flower. As the plant is a fern, the flower isn’t a petalled spectacular, but a cluster of tiny spore cases. That explains why moonwort’s often called grape fern, but where does the lunar bit take its cue from? Take a look at the ‘leaves’; I’ve seen closer resemblances to earth’s natural satellite, but the botanist Linneaus insisted moonwort’s pinnae were distinctly crescent-shaped.

Unsurprisingly, the rather unattractive moonwort, which is often considered more fungus than fern (something to do with its root system), is a bit of a coy mistress. It only pushes a single frond above ground each year, and sometimes neglects to do even that. The frond itself tends to hide beneath leaves, making it somewhat tricky to find.

And don’t we all want what we can’t get our hands on? In the case of this flower, I’m not so sure. But thousands would disagree: there’s a phenomenon called Moonwort Madness that sees allegedly sane people crawling over hill and dale after sunset to track down the elusive grape fern.

Good for giving to: Ill-fated colleagues and treasure seekers.

Great moonworts in literature: Nothing in the classics, it seems, but there’s a Michael Jackson dance move named after it. Oh, yeah, that was moonwalk, wasn’t it?

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Tags: flowers, moonwort, Botrychium lunaria, grape fern, floriography

London Pride – The Daily Flower for 27 July

Contrary to popular belief, London Pride is not first and foremost a parade through Soho, nor is it a hearty ale (although, with synonyms such as St. Patrick’s Cabbage, Prattling Parnell, Nancy Pretty and Kiss Me Quick, the mistake is easily enough made).

“London Pride” – Saxifraga umbrosa by bc anna

The original London Pride (it was known from the 17th century, so that seems a fair descriptor) is, admittedly, both as camp and as vigorous as its modern namesakes. After the Blitz, this glamorous pinkish polka-dotted charmer took it upon itself to beautify the bombsites where no other flora dared to tread.

Despite its star-shaped beauty and leading role in a Noël Coward song, the flower of Saxifraga umbrosa (or shade-loving rocksplitter) is often dismissed as an inferior inclusion in gardens and bouquets. Bah humbug, we say! Those detractors need to add a bit of playfulness to their day. But this debate could end up going around in circles, because the cure of such an ailment lies in London Pride itself: in floriography, the flower connotes frivolity.

Good for giving to: Lager louts and anyone who’s playful, proud and unprejudiced.

Great London Prides in literature: There’s a novel of this name, but the song by Noël Coward wins hands down:

“There’s a little city flower every spring unfailing
Growing in the crevices by some London railing,
Though it has a Latin name, in town and country-side
We in England call it London Pride.”
London Pride (Listen to an mp3 of the song)

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Tags: flowers, London Pride, Saxifraga, floriography

Sunflower – The Daily Flower for 26 July

Beautiful, bigheaded and always seeking the limelight. No, not the latest C-list celebrity, but the sunflower – guaranteed to be a far more pleasant guest in any home.

Hollywood Farmers’ Market by e.t

If you thought sunflowers were just overgrown daisies, you were half right. For starters, although Helianthus annuus is indeed from the Asteraceae family, it doesn’t only come in a haughty three-metre high form bearing messages of pride, false appearances and self-import. There are also dwarf varieties, which carry the far gentler connotation of adoration and ‘your devout admirer’.

Secondly, not every variety of sunflower looks like a daisy: there’s a furry-flowered Teddy Bear, a double-flowered Loddon Gold and multicoloured (cream, yellow and red) Music Box.

Thirdly, garden-variety daisies don’t quite have the charm to attract people with refined aesthetic sensibilities – particularly people with only one ear. Thanks to Van Gogh, sunflowers have entered the world of high art in Eurocentric circles.

The Dutch artist wasn’t the first to register the delights of the heliotropic hedonists, however. Sunflowers originate from the Americas, where they were reportedly venerated by Inca tribes who considered them to be images of their sun god.

Good for giving to: Shiny, happy people of whom you think highly.

Great sunflowers in literature: Perhaps the paradox of riff-raff mixed with royalty is why the sunflower sometimes connotes false appearances:

“Beyond that end of our establishment which was furthest from the street, was a deserted garden, pathless, and thickly grown with the bloomy and villainous ‘jimpson’ weed and its common friend the stately sunflower.”
A Tramp Abroad by Mark Twain

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Tags: flowers, sunflowers, helianthus, floriography

Lilac – The Daily Flower for 25 July

Yesterday, we had white ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ lilac; today we have purple-prosed, lilac-coloured lilac, floriographic signifier of those first emotions of love.

As can be expected of a plant whose common name was bestowed upon that pale purple hue, many species of Syringa have flowers that span the mauve end of the colour spectrum.

The Color Purple by Matt McGee

But what’s the story behind the Syringa genus? Despite their Grecian botanical name (syrinx means hollow pipe, and describes the shoots of some lilac species) and their Francophile connotations (the famous French lilac is a double-flowered cultivar), lilacs originated in Persia. And this explains the common name of these aromatic early bloomers: the Persian word ‘lilak’ means blue.

Lilacs are not only exotic in origin – as cut flowers, they have rather different tastes to most as well. They like their water slightly cooler than room temperature, and respond best to heat exhaustion if they get a steaming foot bath before chilling out in a vase: cut the stems at the usual 45 degrees, and douse the ends in a few inches of boiling water. Ouch! But the lilacs like it.

Good for giving to: Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen fans (where would they be without that versatile hue?), French maids and your latest squeeze.

Great lilacs in literature: This passage from Alexander’s Bridge by Willa Cather epitomises their Frenchness, freshness and fragrance:

“How jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? We walked down to the Place Saint-Michel to buy some lilacs. Do you remember how sweet they smelled?”

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Tags: flowers, lilac, Syringa, floriography

White Lilac – The Daily Flower for 24 July

It seems something of an oxymoron, but at least today’s flower is consistent in its contradictions. White lilac’s floriographic connotation of ‘youthful looks’ calls to mind such seemingly impossible pairings as ‘girlish matron’ and ‘fresh-faced paterfamilias’.

While it may be a struggle to find anyone over forty who’s young anywhere other than at heart, there’s plenty of proof that white lilacs exist. In fact, they abound – there are several species in the Syringa genus that bear pyramid-shaped clusters of little snowy blossoms. 

White lilacs by bc anna

Sadly, many pure white lilacs aren’t as gorgeously scented as their coloured counterparts (unusual, as white flowers are typically stronger smelling), but Syringa reticulate and certain varieties of Syringa X hyacinthiflora buck the trend with their sweet aromas.

Good for giving to: Mutton dressed as lamb and hardy New Hampshirites (Syringa vulgaris is their state flower).

Great white lilacs in literature: An abundance of token references to their scent, but no author sets the lilac in such a spectacular social echelon as Edith Wharton does:

“The bridesmaids’ eight bouquets of white lilac and lilies-of-the-valley had been sent in due time, as well as the gold and sapphire sleeve-links of the eight ushers and the best man’s cat’s-eye scarf-pin;”
The Age of Innocence

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Tags: flowers, white lilac, Syringa, floriography

Honeysuckle – The Daily Flower for 23 July

Anyone who’s ever played in a garden that was home to a rustic beauty from the Lonicera genus will know exactly how these flowers acquired their common name. Who indeed could resist snapping off the tubular petalled goblets and sipping the sweet nectar stored inside?

Honeysuckle IV by Scoobymoo

Whether golden, cherry blushing or ash pale, honeysuckle produces a sweet, summery scent that’s rivaled only by the jasmine flower. Unlike jasmine, however, honeysuckle is more country charmer than exotic coquette. Appropriately, its floriographic meanings are a little less flirtatious than those of its ‘extremeley amiable’ friend – connoting devoted love, fidelity and fraternal love.

There are 180-odd species of honeysuckle (with such alluring names as wild woodbine, Serotina and Graham Thomas), many of which are excellent climbers that wrap masses of curling, golden-sheened blossoms so seductively around gazebos and trellises that Rapunzel would be obliged to blush in shame. Cooped up in that tower, it’s likely the fairytale heroine didn’t smell nearly as good, either.

Good for giving to: Loyal friends, committed lovers and wheezy acquaintances (the flowers can be used to treat respiratory ailments).

Great honeysuckles in literature: It’s tricky to read a novel written more than fifty years ago without spotting the flowers framing a window or adorning a pergola:

“[She] sat herself down upon a stool beside the lattice, where the honeysuckle and woodbine entwined their tender stems, and stealing into the room filled it with their delicious breath.”
Charles Dickens, The Old Curiosity Shop

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Tags: flowers, honeysuckle, Lonicera, floriography

Celandine – The Daily Flower for 22 July

Frankincense, gold and myrmecochory sums up the story of the true celandine, Chelidonium majus: a stinky-sapped golden flower that’s pollinated by ants.

Chelidonium majus by Rasbak

Despite the fact that the flower is neither papery nor red, nor donned on lapels in November, the mass of stamens in its centre make it an easily identifiable member of the Papaveraceae family – to the point that it’s sometimes dubbed the yellow flowering poppy.

The name celandine is an Anglicisation of the Greek word chelidon, which means swallow. Apparently these Mediterranean natives blossom when the birds arrive, and stop blooming when they depart. So a field full of them most probably does a summer make. No wonder the Victorians took celandine to mean ‘joys to come’.

Good for giving to: Antsy-panted summerlovers and hypochondriacs (just how many remedies can you make from a single plant?).

Great celandines in literature: One or two curious walk-on parts, but none more curious than this:

“There was a sort of sham soldier […] who was whistling as he undid the bandages from his fictitious wound [...] On the other hand, there was a wretched fellow, preparing with celandine and beef’s blood, his ‘leg of God’, for the next day.”
Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris 

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Tags: flowers, celandine, Chelidonium majus, floriography

Gloxinia – The Daily Flower for 21 July

Yeah but no but yeah but… Without doubt, gloxinia is the Vicky Pollard of the flower world. First off, there seems much debate about its family tree. Is gloxinia the same as sinningia? And why do some people call them Canterbury bells if Canterbury bells are actually campanulas (the genus that includes harebells)?

Despite the confusion, gloxinia, like Vicky, is one of a kind. Well, yeah but no but three of a kind, actually, if you want to get technical. Still, it’s rather unique for there to be just three species in a single plant genus.

Like Vicky, gloxinia are fans of eyeshadow and lipstick hues – or one hopes they are, as the five-lobed, bell-shaped flowers (complete with a hairy exterior and heart-shaped leaves) are predominantly a kitsch lilac or gaudy tangerine colour.

Gloxinia sylvatica (red-flowered form)

The plant also has scaly rhizomes, and it seems certain that Vicky’s equivalent of a root system would fit that same description. And while the jury is still out on whether the Little Britain star qualifies as exotic, there’s no doubt that the Columbo-Peruvian gloxinia does.

The real disparity between the two, however, only really becomes apparent when it comes to floriography: gloxinia connotes ‘love at first site’.

Good for giving to: Chavs. And the wives of millionaires (see below).

Great gloxinia in literature: One day Vicky may find her (inner) man:

“He presented to the world the appearance of a careless and hospitable millionaire strolling into his own drawing-room with the detachment of an invited guest, and saying: ‘My wife’s gloxinias are a marvel, aren’t they?’”
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

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Tags: flowers, gloxinia, sinningia, Canterbury bells, floriography

White Jasmine – The Daily Flower for 20 July

Intoxicating! Not just the heady, heavenly scent of white jasmine, but the flowers themselves – and not just to look at, either…

Jasmine stars by Hunda

Whether used to flavour tea or ice-cream, perfumes or essential oils, the little white star-shaped blossoms of jasminum officinale flirt their aphrodisiac properties to relieve frigidity and depression.

We strongly suspect that’s how it came to mean extreme amiability in floriography, and have had to resist the temptation to write a creation myth for its evocative synonym: poet’s jasmine.

Good for giving to: Ice queens, moribund bards and Tunisians (it’s their national flower).

Great jasmine in literature: Sweet-scented references abound, but the flower’s appearance in Sinbad's den seemed truest to its stimulating properties:

“Both laid themselves down on the divan; chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were within reach, and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice.”
Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

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Tags: flowers, jasmine, jessamin, floriography

Blue Rock Bindweed – The Daily Flower for 19 July

If plants were people, blue rock bindweed would be an aging hippy. Springy vine tendrils like unkempt curls are tousled with greying foliage and haphazardly decorated with pretty little floral beads.

Flowers and rain drops by joka2000

True to this free-lovin’ comparison, convolvulus sabatia is one species in a genus of over 250 plants in the bindweed family. But don’t make the mistake of confusing it, or its close relative convolvulus tricolor, with morning glory.

Sporting funnel-shaped flowers in hues from the same end of the spectrum as that short-lived beauty from the Ipomoea genus, blue rock bindweed tends to be slightly less gaudy and more relaxed in nature. And unlike that social climber, it’s quite literally down to earth, with smaller, paler blossoms that are just an inch in diameter.

Being more easy-going, convolvulus is also able to last quite a bit beyond sunset – aptly reflected in the floriographic connotations of night and repose.

Good for giving to: Peaceniks and chilled-out flower children.

Great convolvuli in literature: Hey man, they’re not fazed by all that hi-falutin’ stuff. But they did get a nod from Thomas Hardy:

“My Tess, no doubt, almost as many experiences as that wild convolvulus out there on the garden hedge, that opened itself this morning for the first time.”
Tess of the d’Urbervilles

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Tags: flowers, bindweed, convolvulus, floriography

Ivy-Leaved Geranium – The Daily Flower for 18 July

What links Crocodiles, Snow Queens and Summer Showers? Well, to themselves, a couple of short stalks spreading like umbrella ribs from a stem – but, to one another, the fact that they’re all varieties of Pelargonium peltatum, the ivy-leaved geranium.

Ivy leaf geraniums by bc anna

These South African natives get their botanical name from the Greek word for stork (the fruits resemble a crane’s bill) and the Latin for shield (take a look at the ivy-shaped leaves). It’s the flowers, however, that are the most striking. The cascades of maroon, mauve or pinkish flowers have such an intensity of hue that they are used as a pigment to make an indigo dye, while essential oils popular in perfumeries are extracted from the petals.

You can even eat the flowers, if you like a bit of a bite to your bites, or wish to freshen the breath. The acidity also makes the flowers a welcome astringent for greasy skin. In floriography, ivy-leaved geraniums connote ‘save the next dance for me’ – perhaps dropped off as a kind of ballroom queue ticket by prospective waltzers with dodgy complexions and halitosis before they themselves popped off to freshen up with their own stem of pelargonium.

Good for giving to: Spotty teenagers and anyone with whom you fancy taking a turn on the floorboards.

Great geraniums in literature: They seem all to be rather unremarkable, really – and mostly used to describe a touch of colour added to a lapel. Jane Austen’s characters find them rather inspirational, however:

“To this nest of comforts Fanny now walked down to […] see if […] by giving air to her geraniums she might inhale a breeze of mental strength herself. ”
Mansfield Park

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Tags: flowers, geranium, pelargonium,floriography

Magnolia – The Daily Flower for 17 July

Think your family tree goes back a long way? I’d wager it’s not a spot on the magnolia’s – unless you have some fossilised remnants of family members from 20 million years ago.

Indeed, these gorgeous flowers are older than the bees. As such, when it comes to the birds and the bees, magnolias are designed to do it beetle style. The flower’s sturdy female reproductive organs – evolved to withstand the nibbles of bugs – are one of its most distinguishing features, second only to the overwhelming fruity scent that emanates from the showy petals.

Magnolia 1 by DanDee Shots

Star-shaped or gently curved, ivory or cherry-crimson, upright or dangling gracefully downward to expose their attractive anthers, the flowers from any of the 200-odd species in the genus named after the French botanist Charles Magnol are believed to connote nobility or a love of nature.

Good for giving to: Aristocrats and blue-bloods. Especially ones with a bohemian bent.

Great magnolias in literature: While they’ve appeared sporadically in books by Wharton, Woolf, et al, magnolias are better known for their silver screen and stage performances. Billy Holiday often wore one in her hair, and, of course, there’s Steel Magnolias, Magniolia, Magnolia Street, Hotel Magnolia…

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Tags: flowers, magnolia, floriography

Harebell – The Daily Flower for 16 July

The gentle harebell (as Dickens would have it) or proud bluebell (sic. the Scots) is the round-leaved descendent of the extended campanula genus. Well, actually, that’s not entirely correct. While the first part of campanula rotundifolia’s name accurately describes the bell-shaped blossoms, the second part refers only to the basal leaves – those on the wiry stem are contrarily long and narrow.

Blue Bells by bc anna

Harebell it may be, but a hairy belle it is not. Rabbity, perhaps: yes. Long stalks branch off the plant’s smooth stems, off which grow clusters of little paper-thin lilac flowers with a propensity to ‘hop’ (botanists prefer ‘nod’) up and down.

Why such buoyant blossoms are considered to represent constancy is difficult to deduce; although the second meaning, gratitude, is surely derived from the bobbing flower heads.

Good for giving to: Anyone who’s done you a favour or been supportive.

Great harebells in literature: Cameo parts in an abundance of British novels with outdoorsy protagonists. More interestingly cited as distracting and delicious in Rudyard Kipling’s Actions and Reactions:

“George Lashmar Chapin wanted all the bluebells on God's earth that day to eat, and--Sophie adored him in a voice like to the cooing of a dove; so business was delayed.”

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Tags: flowers, harebell, bluebell, campanula, floriography

Belladonna – The Daily Flower for 15 July

Seen a flushed-faced, husky-voiced someone mooning about with dilated pupils and an abnormally rapid beating of the heart? It may not be a beautiful woman who’s responsible for these symptoms, but belladonna, the deadly nightshade.

Ingested in large quantities (or smaller amounts, if you’re a child or a domestic pet), the tropane alkaloids of the Eurasian perennial Atropa belladonna can cause symptoms reminiscent of a giddy lover, but which are a prelude not to a little death, but death itself. To be expected, surely, from a shrub whose botanical name is a tribute to the Fate who held the shears that cut the thread of human life.

But just a drop of tincture made from the murky purple, bell-shaped flowers that grow singly from the axils of the plant’s glabrous leaves can be used to a more positive effect. Italian women (bella donnas) are alleged to have crushed the 1-inch petals or a few drops of sweet juice from the inky berries to make eyedrops that would give their peepers greater allure.

Belladonna by Steve Ford Elliott

In Chaucer’s day, the shrub was dubbed dwale, said to be derived either from the Scandinavian word for sleep or the French word for grief.

Perhaps these are truths, perhaps falsehoods (and perhaps that’s why the Victorians couldn’t decide between ‘verity’ and ‘fallacy’ when giving deadly nightshade a floriographic connotation) – it’s probably best to take the stories with a pinch of salt.  Unless you’ve overdosed on dear belladonna, in which case, take a pinch of mustard in a glass of vinegar and water.

Good for giving to: People you don’t really like. Or who need a bit of a twinkle in their eye.

Great belladonnas in literature: Opiate don Conan Doyle and Devil’s Dictionarist Ambrose Bierce both pay tribute to this mildly hallucinogenic plant that’s sometimes called Naughty Man’s Cherries. Virgina Woolf’s Mr Rodney just uses it for his fragmentary metaphors:

“Literature was a fresh garland of spring flowers, he said, in which yew-berries and the purple nightshade mingled with the various tints of the anemone;”
Night and Day

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Tags: flowers, belladonna, deadly nightshade, floriography

Lotus Flower – The Daily Flower for 14 June

Revered by mystical yogis and yoga mums alike, the numinous Nelumbo nucifera was once as popular a motif on palace walls as it is today on Pilates mats. But the murky beginnings of the lotus flower are proof that it deserves admiration from a far wider audience than the clean-living of Notting Hill.

Beneath the broad velvety leaves and iridescent pink blossoms that float sublimely on the surface of the water, the root system of this aquatic plant is firmly entrenched in the antediluvian sludge of the riverbed. The plants often begin their life in dried-up pools after the monsoons, triumphing over adversity and apparently regerminating for thousands of years.

Indian Lotus by titanium22

From there, it doesn’t take much cerebral prowess to understand why the lotus flower represents good fortune and eternity in Eastern cultures. More taxing, however, is making the leap to the Victorians’ floriographic meaning: estranged love. Perhaps the best thing to do is brew a mind-permeating tea from the sweet-scented flower, sit on a lily pad, and think about it for a while.

Good for giving to: Accidental heros, recent exes and nirvana seekers.

Great lotuses in literature: The magical beauties have featured in classics from Homer to Bram Stoker.

“And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever
With Indian Cupid down the holy river”
Edgar Allan Poe

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Tags: flowers, lotus, floriography

Asphodel – The Daily Flower for 13 July

Asphodel provides a feast for the eyes of living, and food for the souls of the dead – not to mention the bellies of the beasts that find sustenance in the plant’s roots. Unfortunately, nobody has yet been able to validate the claim that Asphodelus ramosus adorns the planes of Hades, but this ancient plant from the Liliaceae family has often been spotted in the Mediterranean countryside.

Although it may not be as old as Hell, asphodel is surely as old as the hills. As well as featuring in Homer’s tales, the flower received a detailed write-up in the works of the earlier poet Hesiod sometime around 700 BC. Both these ancient Greeks made strong ties between asphodel and the Underworld, which probably explains why the flower is understood to mean ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’.

“Asphodelus ramosus”, photo prise à Cerbère (France) en avril 2005 © Jean Tosti {{GFDL}}

Also known as king’s spear and royal staff (‘asphodel’ is derived from the Greek word for sceptre), the spring-flowering perennial produces clusters of ghostly white flowers, identifiable by the brownish vein that traverses the tepals.

Good for giving to: Goths, Greek scholars, fairy fanciers and anyone who prickles your conscience.

Great asphodels in literature: Homer’s Odysseus notices numerous asphodels in the Underworld:

“When I had told him this, the ghost of Achilles strode off across a meadow full of asphodel, exulting over what I had said concerning the prowess of his son.”

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Tags: flowers, asphodel, floriography

Basil – The Daily Flower for 12 July

It’s no kitchen whimsy that’s given basil the nickname ‘king of herbs’ – it’s a verifiable etymological fact: in Greek, basilikos means royal. But is that a justifiable reason for featuring this green-leafed regal member of the mint family in The Daily Flower? Not really, but the fact that the plant boasts a little-known but rather beautiful flower most certainly is.

The reason you may not have had the pleasure of encountering basil flowers is that they are often pinched off before they bloom – it’s a commonly held belief that this encourages a greater abundance of better-tasting leaves. If left to its own devices, however, the basil plant grows clusters of irregular white or purple blossoms just over a centimetre in length.

Stalk of basil by Christian Bauer

Although basil leaves are the undisputed ‘herbe royale’, there’s much debate over what the flowers connote. Opinions seem to sway from the sublime (best wishes) to the ridiculous (hatred of the other sex) – both of which could stem from an early Greek and Roman tradition of cursing loudly while sewing basil seeds in the belief that it would ensure a good crop.

Good for giving to: Lovers (if you’re Italian), enemies (if you’re an ancient Greek), scorpiophobes (if you’re in Africa), cooks and anyone needing the rub of the green.

Great basils in literature: A nickname given by Tertius to Rosamund in George Eliot’s Middlemarch:

“He once called her his basil plant; and when she asked for an explanation, said that basil was a plant which had flourished wonderfully on a murdered man’s brains.”

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Tags: flowers, basil, floriography

Acacia – The Daily Flower for 11 July

A curious dichotomy of meaning for the bipinnately compound leafed acacia plant: ‘chaste love’, and also ‘concealed love’. How did these far-from-synonymous connotations arise? I blame Balzac:

“And the poor soldier went to the acacia; but when he was a few steps from it, the countess looked at him, as if defying him, although a slight expression of fear seemed to flicker in her eye; then, with a single bound she sprang from the acacia to a laburnum, and thence to a Norway fir, where she darted from branch to branch with extraordinary agility.”

More like chased love than chaste love, but never mind. Either way, the acacia is undeniably connected with affairs of the heart, be they unrevealed or unconsummated.

Acacia blossoms by karol m

That said, a further curiosity arises, as the bright-yellow firework-like flowers with their lovely perfume are themselves neither concealed nor coy. But the Victorians always had some rather odd views (after all, they insisted on table legs being covered in drapes lest they proved too titillating), so perhaps we should just nod dourly and sneak a blossom shyly to our favourite piece of furniture.

Good for giving to: Australians (the golden wattle variety is their national plant) and secret squeezes.

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Tags: flowers, acacia, floriography

Dog Rose – The Daily Flower for 10 July

You’d probably think someone was barking mad if they told you they fancied a bit of white skirt and orange hips – unless, of course, you were well acquainted with Rosa Canina, the dog rose.

Dog Rose by Pete S

Chances are you’ve caught a fleeting glimpse of this flower already. The softly scented, pale pinkish-white blossoms are a common sight in hedgerows across England, where locals sometimes refer to the rose as wild briar. In late summer, the flowers produce pomaceous fruit (‘hips’) that can be harvested to make a vitamin-C-rich syrup or herbal tea.

But what’s with the dogs? Did the flower get its name because it is used as a symbol for pleasure and pain (like man’s best friend who both bites and delights), or perhaps because the jagged leaves are reminiscent of hounds’ teeth? Apparently not; the rose is so called because its root was once believed to cure a disease caught from rabid dogs.

Good for giving to: Unrequiting lovers, rambling beauties and anyone twice shy.

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Tags: flowers, dogrose, wild briar, floriography

Guelder Rose – The Daily Flower for 9 July

Quite a literary hero, the Guelder rose. It’s appeared not only in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, buds ‘swelled with sap’, but also Howards End, where it is the victim of some serious thinning out. Perhaps this literary transformation from nubile shoot to thinning shrub inspired the flower’s meaning of ‘growing old’. It seems more likely, however, that floriographers would have observed how the plant’s tan twigs grey with age.

Guelder Rose by David Orsborne

Despite the suggestion of its name, the flower is neither a native of the Netherlands nor a rose – although it is named after the Dutch province of Guelderland. A Guelder rose is, in fact, a shrub that is also known as Viburnum opulus, European cranberry or snowball tree. The latter name gives a good clue to the plant’s appearance: star-shaped clusters of cream-coloured, five-petalled flowers surrounded by larger, pure white blossoms.

Good for giving to: Anyone celebrating a birthday – especially if they have literary pretensions.

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Tags: flowers, Guelder rose, viburnum, floriography

Purple-Top Verbena – The Daily Flower for 8 July

If you’re au fait with a bit of olé, today’s flower probably evokes (somewhat blurry) memories of late-night dancing in Barcelona. Indeed, the Spanish ‘verbena’ – a kind of outdoor summer disco – derives its name from the plant, which in turn takes its name from the Latin for leafy branch or sacred bough. But from whence the floriographic association of this plant is derived remains somewhat more of a mystery – unless notions of regret and weeping for somebody are intrinsically connected to jiving around in the moonlight with a bottle of Rioja.

Purple Burst by Scott Robinson

Like regret, purple-top verbena travels by a variety of other names: Argentinean vervain, tall verbena, verbena patagonica and verbena bonariensis. As these South American synonyms suggest, the plant is a native of the New World, which, true to its heritage, celebrates the warm weather by flowering from mid-summer to late autumn. The fragrant clusters of mauve florets that blossom on the wiry stems also prove utterly irresistible to butterflies.

Good for giving to: Miserablists, lepidopterists and writers of extravagant prose.

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Tags: flowers, verbena, purple top, vervain, floriography

Imperial Lily – The Daily Flower for 7 July

A ponderous plant with pendulous bell-shaped flowers, the Imperial lily doesn’t exactly shout ‘dignity’. But then again, dignity isn’t usually something that’s brazenly proclaimed, so perhaps it’s rather an apt floriographic connotation after all… at least until one learns that fritillaria imperialis, the giant of the Liliaceae family, is an absolute stinker.

Fritillaria imperialis yellow by bc anna.

Indeed, the Middle-Eastern native is known for emitting foul odours – variously described as ‘musky’, ‘skunky’ or like ‘wet fur and garlic’ – from its magnificent flowers.

The imperial lily certainly didn’t get its scientific name from its odiferous characteristics, either. Fritillus is new Latin for ‘dice cup’ and imperialis translates as ‘grand’. The size of the Imperial lily explains the latter, but the former requires a bit more elucidation.

Apparently, the Romans used patterned shakers for gambling, and, although the Imperial lily’s flowers are either solid yellow or auburn in colour, most plants prefixed by fritillus have petals with variegated markings.

Good for giving to: The Imperial lily is not a good choice in bouquets, unless you know someone who has unwittingly become a Pied Piper of Hamelin – the flowers are an excellent rodent repellent.

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Tags: flowers, imperial lily, Fritillaria imperialis, floriography

Iris – The Daily Flower for 6 July

Got some good news, but a little shy of sounding the trumpets? A floral fanfare of irises is the subtle alternative.

In Greek mythology, Iris was the messenger of the gods who made her passage between the mortals and the majestic by rainbow. Appropriately, iris flowers also trip the light fantastic over most of the seven-coloured spectrum, although violets, yellows and blues are the most common hues.

Blue iris by Rosana Prada

It’s a well-known fact that nobody says ‘I love you’ quite like the French, but somewhat of a better-kept secret that nobody says ‘iris’ quite like them, either. The heraldic fleur de lis that adorned the crests of the pre-Republic monarchy is not, in fact, a lily, but an iris.

These heraldic associations are often considered the genesis of the iris’s noms de plume: flag flower and sword flag. But these battlefield connotations extend as far east as Japan, where blue irises are considered as symbols of heroism and their colour indicative of a regal bloodline.

Good for giving to: Royalist francophiles, landed gentry, valiant knaves and gossipmongers. They’re great for new parents, too – not just because they herald good news, but because the root of the iris was once used to soothe the gums of teething toddlers.

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Tags: flowers, irises, fleur de lis, floriography

Mignonette – The Daily Flower for 5 July

Err, isn’t mignonette a sauce you douse your oysters in? Or a cute little French girl? Flowerphiles would argue that you’re closer with the second guess: mignonette is, in fact, a dainty native of the Mediterranean region – but a hermaphroditic, green and somewhat spiky one.

Referred to as Reseda luteola in botany circles (and called Bastard Rocket or Weld behind its back), mignonette is more often grown for dye-makers than for florists.

The chartreuse stems are about a metre tall, topped with a willowy spike of tiny greenish-yellow or white flowers. Fortunately, the plant boasts a heavenly scent that more than makes up for its unremarkable looks. In floriography, mignonette is said to mean ‘you are better than handsome’ – which must have been a Victorian euphemism for ‘you’re ugly, but you smell nice’.

Good for giving to: People who can't get hold of Otoko Kaoro, unsightly relatives and anyone with an appreciative nose.

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Tags: flowers, mignonette, reseda, floriography

Carnation – The Daily Flower for 4 July

You’ve seen them in buttonholes, bouquets, and, somewhat less glamorously, on filling-station forecourts. No surprise, really, considering that the carnation is the UK’s best-selling flower.

While dianthus caryophyllus’ ubiquitous presence in such insalubrious environs as supermarkets and service stations may have secured it the most popular spot, it has also smeared the once-regal flower’s reputation. Given the upturned noses carnations often provoke today, it’s tricky to imagine that they were once the Greeks’ flowers of choice in ceremonial crowns (‘coronations’) and dubbed ‘Jove’s flower’ by the Romans in honour of one of their top gods.

What’s even trickier to believe is that floral trendspotters are predicting a carnation renaissance.  How will those stalwarts of Mothering Sunday bouquets suddenly become must-have accoutrements for the style-conscious? Try clustering together a clump of cocktail-hued carnations for a tiki-style splash of colour – you might just see for yourself.

Speaking of colour, every differently tinted carnation tells its own story: deep red for passion or heartbreak, white for love and luck, pink for woman’s love, purple for whimsy and yellow for disappointment.

Good for giving to: Caring mothers, pseudo-angry lovers and Hawai’i-inspired brothers. And anyone without green fingers (carnations last for weeks with very little care).

Dianthus caryophyllus by junko_k.

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Tags: flowers, carnations, floriography

Sweet Pea – The Daily Flower for 3 July

Queen of Annuals, the sweet pea’s ‘delicate pleasures’ can be resisted by neither poets nor proletarians, age nor youth, rich nor poor.

Originally from Sicily, the sweet pea has long been prized for its colour and fragrance. The divine scent made the flower a popular inclusion in tussie-mussies – small handheld nosegays that were carried to much the same effect as Gucci bags before the 1900s. Although, even today, brides harking back to a bygone era (and those who realise a posy is more appropriate than a purse when perambulating down the aisle) still sometimes carry a handful of sweet peas on their wedding day.

There’s a rumour that sweet peas not only help to alleviate hangovers, but also enhance the libido. More likely, the exhilarating aroma has gone straight to somebody’s head.

Good for giving to: Charming hosts, blushing brides, Romantic poets and anyone recovering from (or about to enjoy) a good night out.

A macro shot of a wild vine sweet pea by bc anna.

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Tags: flowers, sweet peas, floriography

White Lily – The Daily Flower for 2 July

You can tell just by looking at a white lily that it’s followed the path of righteousness. Even before it became associated with the virtues of the Virgin Mary, the flower symbolised purity, innocence and tenderness. In ancient Greece, white lilies were fabled to have grown from drops of milk spilt from the mother-goddess Hera’s breast.

Today, Feng Shui practitioners see the lily an emblem of summer and abundance, while the Chinese consider lilies to mean ‘forever in love’. The dignified purity of the flowers means they’re a fitting symbol for the circle of life, equally appropriate for births, marriages and funerals.

Divas also demand them in their dressing rooms, so you can rest assured you’ll impress any princess with a gift of these spectacular, long-lasting flowers.

Good for giving to: Purists, painters and princesses.

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Tags: flowers, lilies, floriography

Pinks – The Daily Flower for 1 July

Exactly what constitutes a ‘pink’ in the world of flowers is about as clear cut as the zigzaggy petals of dianthus plumarius. While some people include close cousins Sweet Williams and carnations in their definition, pinks are actually a slightly different species, identifiable by their daintier flower heads and more delicate stems.

Surprisingly, pinks aren’t actually named after their colour – they’re named after their frilly edges: pinking shears are those dressmakers’ scissors with v-shaped teeth on the blades. The colour pink, it turns out, is actually named after the plants (which, confusingly, are also sometimes red. Or white. Or varigated. Or with a darker centre and edging.)

Whatever colour they come in, pinks smell great. The potent clove aroma often lingers longer than that of the herb itself, possibly explaining why the flowers are said to mean ‘I’ll never forget you’.

Good for giving to: Tailors. And soldiers and sailors before they head off into the wild blue yonder. Tinkers will probably like them too, as will poor men, beggar men and thieves. Not so sure about the rich men, though.

Photograph by urban gardener Linda N.

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Tags: flowers, pinks, dianthus, floriography