Tag: mums

From “The Honourable and Imperial Flower” in Chrysanthemum (Botanical) by Twigs Way:

“Asia forms the heartland of the wild chrysanthemum, with China the centre of diversity…. In addition to being prized for its beauty, the chrysanthemum was incorporated into the very heart of Chinese culture, in literature, religion and the very rhythm of the seasons, with festivals and traditions linked to their flowering….

“Unlike the relatively simple and largely romanticized ‘language of flowers’ of the West, in China the meaning of individual plants is overlaid not only with historical and cultural association and religious symbolism, but with philosophical attributes associated with flower shape, colour, flowering time and growth habit. In Chinese culture plants may also be combined to make favourable or auspicious groupings; for example the pine, bamboo and plum combine to make the ‘Three Friends of Winter’, or suihan sanyou, and represent longevity and perseverance, which in turn are virtues attached to the ‘gentleman scholar’….

“When the chrysanthemum, bamboo, plum blossom and orchid are combined they are collectively referred to as the ‘Four Gentlemen’ or ‘Four Noblemen’. In this guise they represent the four seasons and the unfolding nature of the year from autumn to winter through spring and summer. This in turn represents the passage through life and its cyclical return.”

From “At the Moment” in The Cranes are Flying by Joan P. Hudson:

At the moment a wind
snow is biting the skin.
A dim sun with a ring
around it is slightly shining.

A patch of snow is melting
and growing smaller and
smaller every few days.
Tiny brown sparrows
being flushed from the trees.

No wish from you on this day.
Only a red chrysanthemum
staying ablaze in a cup of water
carefully refilled time after time….

Hello!

This is the second of four posts featuring photographs of mums and daisies from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens, that I took in late November and early December. The first post is Red Mums and Daisies (1 of 4).

Big Weather is threatening us with another snowstorm, “storm” being a bit relative here since a southeastern snowstorm is any amount of snow over a dusting from flurries. I think this one’s less likely than the last one (which I also thought was unlikely — surprise!), and I’m right at the predicted dividing line between snow and not-snow, so I may or may not see any. Even so, it’s much colder than a typical late January — with temps barely creeping up to freezing — so I’m glad to have some warm and fiery red flowers to work on and share.

Thanks for taking a look!

From the Introduction to Chrysanthemum (Botanical) by Twigs Way:

“From philosophy to art, ceramics to silks, medicine to death: the chrysanthemum winds its way through ancient Chinese culture to the imperial courts of Japan and onto the canvases and pages of Western civilization. Often dismissed as the ‘showman’s flower’ it draws its allure from the gold of the Sun and the rule of emperors, with sunset shades beloved by East and West. The delicacy of its petals, combined with a long flowering period, gained it the affection of the ancient Chinese, who named it Chu, from which comes the name of the ancient city Ta-chu Hsien….

“Coming to Europe with the opening up of Chinese trade in the eighteenth century, the flower was given a new baptism and chu or kiku became chrysanthemum, named from the Greek for gold (chrysos) and for flower (anthos). Ironically, it was not until the importation of ‘Old Purple’, a plum-red variety, that the possibilities of the chrysanthemum were truly appreciated in the West as the cheering yellow colours of the original wild chrysanthemum multiplied into an array of autumnal hues….

“Filling the autumn months, they give rise to associations varying from remembrance of ancestors to the start of the American football season — the latter an occasion to which it was long a tradition to wear a chrysanthemum buttonhole. In America the tradition of Thanksgiving was soon regarded as incomplete without a bunch of chrysanthemums, despite the fact that they only arrived on the continent in the late eighteenth century.”

From “Chrysanthemums” in Shoes of the Wind: A Book of Poems by Hilda Conkling:

Dusky red chrysanthemums out of Japan,
With silver-backed petals like armor,
Tell me what you think sometimes?
You have fiery pink in you too…
You all mean loveliness:
You say a word
Of joy.
You come from gardens unknown
Where the sun rises…
You bow your heads to merry little breezes
That run by like fairies of happiness;
You love the wind and woody vines
That outline the forest…
You love brooks and clouds…
Your thoughts are better than my thoughts
When the moon is getting high!

Hello!

Here we have the first of four posts featuring photographs of mums and daisies from Oakland Cemetery’s gardens, that I took in late November and early December. My previous posts with pink and magenta mums and daisies from the same trips are:

Pink Daisies, Pink Mums (1 of 3)
Pink Daisies, Pink Mums (2 of 3)
Pink Daisies, Pink Mums (3 of 3)
Mums, Magenta Style

As I often do, I’ve organized the photographs by color: this set of four posts features blooms where the color red dominates — and these flowers seem to have produced just about every shade of red you could imagine. Some yellow, orange, and white collections are currently queued in my backlog, just waiting to be set free later this month and beyond.

According to PlantNet (and depending on which photograph you’re viewing), the plants will likely be Hardy Garden Mums (Chrysanthemum × morifolium), Persian Daisies (Tanacetum coccineum), or Indian Chrysanthemums (Chrysanthemum indicum) — so you have a one-third chance of getting the name right, as PlantNet attributes about the same probability to each of these three plant names upon examining my photographs. You could also just call them Asters — from their family name Asteraceae — and of course get it exactly right in all cases.

I was glad to come across the book I quoted briefly at the top of this post because I like discovering new books devoted to just one plant genus, especially if the books dive into the botanical and cultural history of the plants. Chrysanthemum (Botanical) by Twigs Way is part of a series of twenty-seven books, each taking a similar approach to botanical history. In my imagination, I like to think I’ll eventually own the whole series; but realistically, I’ll take a look at certain ones as the blooming period for those flowers approaches. We’re not just about photographs here (not that there’s anything wrong with that), so finding books about the dynasties of lilies, snowdrops (a book just about snowdrops!), tulips, rhododendrons, sunflowers, cherries, roses, and daffodils (forthcoming) — all plants that pose for my photoshoots — turns each nature trip into an exploration of not only photography but of plants and their relation to human histories. We are going to learn so many new things!

Thanks for taking a look!