Yesterday morning I opened my back patio gate and stepped outside to THIS. The Path had bloomed. This bush has the largest flower of all the tropical hibiscus I own. About the size of your hand stretched wide open. She is also the only one still in a pot. I like being able to move her around. Tropical hibiscus like pots. They can't go in the ground in cold climates.
no photoshop or retouching of any kind here, just pure flower
When she first blooms her petals bend backwards and puff out. Gradually over the next 24 hours they cup back inward. These flowers don't need water to live inside your house, but I almost never pick mine. I like to see them adorning the plant. I rolled The Path inside the gate and left her under the pergola today so I could keep my eye on her. The bloom will last a tiny bit longer in the filtered light.
Gator Pride also bloomed yesterday. Several times! Each tropical hibiscus has very different growth patterns. I don't know why I never gave you the link for Hidden Valley Hibiscus. I think they ship their lovely hibiscus everywhere. Varieties change constantly so mine may not be available any longer. They're having an Open House at the end of the month. It's a field trip I can wholeheartedly endorse.
Years ago I made the Open House trip. It was about 90 minutes south down interesting 2 lane roads to their nursery out in the boondocks. People. If you live in non-urban areas outside of Southern California you know what real boondocks are. These are not them. But these felt very boondocky to me on that late spring day. I even got lost which made the outing more special.
I started reading Istanbul by Orhan Pamuk. He lives in the neighborhood of Cihangir where our rental apartment is located. In between making doe eyes at the hibiscus I read outside most of the afternoon.
The writing is beautiful and there are pictures. Pictures!
Happy Sunday evening. From my outpost here in LA to wherever in the world you happen to be.
The natural color combinations in the hibiscus are just stunning!
Those hibiscus, especially those peachy ones are so luscious, I could bury my face in them. I get a kick out of your writings when you long for clouds. Where I am, it’s grey grey globby grey and when the sun comes out the neighborhood gets panicky and worries about this alien light. When you look at the weather map I live where there’s always an ominous mass clomped over.
Reading his Snow just about put me in the dirt.
Kudos.
I love the hibiscus, especially the Gator Pride! gorgeous colours, reminds me of Bermuda where i was born!!
Sounds like a wonderful afternoon!
Those hibiscus are get-down-on-your-knees-breathtakingly beautiful!!!!
But I do get a chuckle out of California being a cold climate. Gee – I wish I lived in a “cold climate”!
Wow…amazing hibiscus! I just love them and the variety never ceases to amaze me.
Enjoy the book, and I know you’ll enjoy your journey to Istanbul.
I love Istanbul by Orhan Pamuk ..I thought you might like this poem about Istanbul .. it is so evocative ….
I AM LISTENING TO ISTANBUL
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
At first there blows a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly flutter or sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water carriers incessantly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, in a hue and cry
While nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman’s feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar is serene and cool,
A hubbub at the hub of the market,
Mosque yards are brimful of pigeons,
At the docks while hammers bang and clang
Spring winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Now a dainty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Cusswords, tunes and songs, malapert remarks;
Something falls on the ground out of her hand,
It’s a rose I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
A bird flutters round your skirt;
I know your brow is moist with sweat
And your lips are wet.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart’s throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Orhan Veli Kanik (1914-1950)
Translated by Talat Sait Halman (1982)