The Paris daisy.

The Paris Daisy

There is just nothing more comforting than a single, little and insignificant flower. I say ‘insignificant’ in its beauty being so shy and modest. It’s not like a brutal rose for instance, with its hostile thorns and short flowering duration. The only rose daring to raise its head in the garden is our Iceberg,  bravely defying neglect and lack of attention. We do not like the rose, in spite of  Shakespeare. No, give us the sun of a Paris daisy.

It is strange how last year our Paris Daisy bush had hundreds of flowers lasting weeks. Their obstinacy in clinging to stay the top-flower in preference to the majestically towering Bay trees and Royal Hydrangeas is remarkable, surely worthy of lofty praise and curtsying  respect!

I mention their strangeness, because ever since their copious flower-show last year came to end, it all stopped. Not a single bud since its flower explosion six months ago. Was it some form of protest. Was it trying to tell us something? We raised it lovingly from a cutting we took from our next-door neighbour, Harley. We asked for it and he gladly gave his blessings. His Paris daisy fronts the street and gives passers-by so much beauty and pleasure. All free. All it might want in return are a few kind words, something in the order of; ‘oh, what a lovely plant,’ or even ‘great little yellow daisy, isn’t it?’  It doesn’t mind being called pretty or even described as a ‘pretty bush.’ It’s rarely insulted by people not really knowing it is a daisy. Milo lifting its hind led is even tolerated by this Paris Daisy. Isn’t that proof of symbiotic relations? No wonder its flowers so profusely.

We had a friend many years ago who named every flowering plant under the sun a pretty tulip. He knew I was Dutch and thought it safe to show some horticultural insights. He might also have thought he was witty. I prefer this last summation and showed my pleasure with accompanying laughter, which often takes me a considerable effort. There is nothing wrong with boosting the ego of another person. Things are often so frail and precarious amongst us, and an encouragement is the least I ought to practise and ‘share.’

Have we noticed that this verb ‘sharing’ has become very popular? We are knee-deep in the West with our ‘sharing’. It is particularly popular amongst those that practise psychology or hold alternative health certificates with a preponderance for prescribing herbal medications including Bach remedies to Gurdjieff followers and his teachings of The Fourth Way.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Gurdjieff

The taking of the Paris Daisy photo above was irresistible. Isn’t it beautiful? It stopped me in my tracks. I have been watching its tiny bud over the last few weeks. This morning it opened. Is it trying to make amends? Helvi told me she had trimmed it last year, but that was at the very end of its flowering and should not have minded the daisy at all.

Nature has a way to do things on its own accord and we should just let it get on with giving us its beauty.

Isn’t that such an act of sublime generosity?