To my eye, this allium is an exploding flower ball of perfectness. It looks like a purple pistil planet with petals pushing off home base. Like a lit firework ignited and still attached. The tiny individual petals are seemingly arching ever so delicately, bridging the space in between air and sun, leaning into the light. Something that we behind the camera depend on. Always. The light, that sweet golden light.
If you have ever practiced yoga, the objective, is to stretch your mind, body and spirit. Sometimes it is challenging , but you want to push yourself a little bit to allow for the flow of fresh blood into the crevices between gristle and bone, open up fresh thoughts for your mind and cleanse and heal your soul. Ahhh, it almost always hurts so good. That is what these teeny flowers on a flower remind me of. Do you feel me here? They are reaching for the greater good. They are smiling.
They seem to be opening up and sweeping their violet crowns toward the sun.
Ok, enough of my crazy granola eating, flower ~child, hippy talk. Ooh, the flowers are talking to me.. no, well, kind of . Didn’t you hear it? Ha. Yes, I am a weirdo. No I am not. Yes, I am. Whatever. Let me sum it up in someone else’s words then.
“When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky”.