#Hello Yellow blackberry lily

[faguscarolinensis]

Iris domestica 'Hello Yellow' / 'Hello Yellow' Blackberry Lily at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (5/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader 

Warnings: fluff, underage drinking, mild smut, swearing?

Word Count: 2.7k

Part Summary: it’s a few days after Y/N received her horrible news. Since then, she’s been acting as though everything fine. When Gryffindor wins against Hufflepuff and everyone gathers to celebrate, everything comes to ahead. 

Masterlist

Growing antsy, I check my watch for the tenth time in the last half hour. Oh good, finally! Sirius is finally out of detention! I scribble down the last bit of my paper and start to pack up my things to leave the library. Lily and Marlene peer up from their work across the table.

“Are you okay?” Marlene breaks the silence.

“Yeah, just peachy!” I press my lips together as I shove my textbook into my bag.

“Y/N, you don’t have to act like you’re okay,” Lily tries to reason with me gently. “You’re dealing with something-”

“Everything is fine, Lil!” I snap.

Lily and Marlene jumps slightly at my sudden rashness. Comprehending what I’ve just done, I take a deep breath and fill with instant regret. It’s not my friends’ fault, I shouldn’t take it out on them.

“I made my decision,” I state calmly. “Now it’s done.”

I start to rise from my seat and place my bag on my shoulder. Checking my watch again, I realize that I actually have a few extra minutes, oh well. I don’t think I can sit here in this silent library for much longer.

“Where are you going?” Marlene questions hesitantly and glances between me and Lily.

“I’m supposed to meet Sirius in the courtyard,” I rush out.

Lily’s face scrunches in confusion. “What about James?”

“What about him? See ya!” I force a smile and head toward the door.

Now I’m certain Lily and Marlene are going to have a field day with worrying about me. 

________________________

Laying in the grass of the courtyard under the tree, Sirius and I just lounge around for most of the afternoon. I rest against the bench and Sirius baths under the sun. He surprised me with blackberries he stole from the kitchens on his way here. I’ve challenged him to catch them in his mouth. Even when he has the advantage of me dropping it directly above his mouth, Sirius doesn’t have the best coordination.

“No, a thousand percent! Heart is much better than The Runaways.” I agree as I drop another blackberry.

Sirius actually catches it, so i playfully applaud him. He pretends to bow, struggling to suppress his laughter. Rolling onto his side to face me, he grabs a handle full of berries from the pile on the towel beside me.

“Do you think you’d ever be in a band like that?” He asks.

I laugh, “could you see me in a rock band?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods, dead serious.

“What?!” I nudge him on the shoulder. “Are you mad?”

“Mad about you...” He smirks cheekily, meeting my gaze with hooded eyes.

I roll my eyes at his flirtatious innuendo, pressing my lips together to hide my childish grin. I can feel my cheeks getting warm and it’s not from the heat of the sun. With a flick of my wrist, I pick up a berry from the pile and hold it up to his mouth. He glances at it and back at me, anticipating me moving it away. Hesitantly, he leans forward to take the berry in his mouth. His eyes remain locked on mine. Then, I hurry and pop the berry in my mouth with a snicker.

"Oh you're gonna get it now!" Sirius laughs.

He grabs me by the waist and rolls me over so that I'm on his lap. Relentlessly, he starts tickling me, knowing how much I can't stand it. I wiggle in his hold, but I know he's far too strong and I don't stand chance.

“Sirius stop!” I squeal.

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” He mocks playfully.

“Sirius!” I laugh nervously, trying to pry his hands away.

“Not the magic word," Sirius teases in a sing-songy tone. "But by all means keep screaming my name," he purrs.

“I don’t know it!” I plead, struggling to cease my laughter.

“Oh sure you do! Think, Gorgeous, think!” He snickers.

“Padfoot!” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“There it is!”

Sirius stops his attack and I relax beside him on the grass. My breathing slowly subsides as I pant. Rather proud of himself, Sirius watches me with a grin.

“You’re the worst!” I giggle, watching the clouds flow by as I catch my breath.

“You say that but you love me,” he winks.

I turn my head to the side and meet his gaze. "Most days," I admit quietly with a giggle.  

His face falls, "you what-”

“Y/N!” James's voice captures my attention.

I sit up to see him jogging over from the quidditch field with a smile.

“There you are, Darling! I’ve been looking for you," he greets warmly once he's closer.

Joining us, he sits on the bench beneath the tree and I crawl across the short distance to sit on the grass by him.  

“I’ve been here," I point out nonchalantly. "How was practice?”

“Decent. I’ve missed you today," he charms, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

“We saw each other this morning,” I snicker.

“Yes, but you were with Lily and Marlene. I hardly got to speak with you," he dramatically pouts like a child who lost his toy.

"That's what meals are for," I lecture.

I crisscross my arms on his leg and rest my chin on them, enjoying this beautiful afternoon. It's honestly the most perfect weather and spending it with my two favorite boys isn't too shabby either.

"I'm going to head out," Sirius announces, already to his feet.

I protest disappointedly, "but-"

"What's up mate?" James beats me to it.

Sirius shrugs, suddenly gloomy. "Nothing, just promised Remus I'd help him with something."

"Alright, see you at dinner then," James nods. "You're going to the game tonight right?"

Sirius mutters an agreement and glances down at me.

"I'll see you Y/N," he mumbles, offering me a weak smile.

I nod, "yeah, yeah most definitely!"

I don't want him to go. We were having so much fun. He turns to walk away and I mood is hindered. One minute we were having a blast, like how we were before... well before everything. Now, I'm just confused.

“Hey," James pulls my focus away from Sirius. "Excited for Hogsmeade next weekend?"

I hum, nodding my head enthusiastically. "It'll be a nice change of pace."

"I had an idea! After the game tonight, let’s go to the Astronomy Tower,” he suggests enthusiastically.

I shake my head, biting my lip to hide my grin. This boy is going to get me in trouble without a doubt.

"But what if we get caught?" I inquire wisely.

“I’ll bring my invisibility cloak,” he concludes without a care in the world.

I hum, thinking it over. If we do end up getting caught, that's my third detention this year. James better bring his cloak if I do agree to it.

“I’ll think about it.” I comply, not fully, but enough to satisfy the boy.

"Perfect," he leans down and plants a kiss to the top of my head.

__________________________________________________________

I do another shot of firewhiskey with Marlene and it hits me instantly, putting me over the edge. Gryffindor won today against Hufflepuff, so everyone's celebrating in the Common Room. The girls and I decided earlier today to dress for the occasion. I bought a new red leather skirt over the summer when Marlene came to visit me. I've yet to wear it and Marlene insisted I pair it with her yellow Gryffindor t-shirt she cut to a crop top.

James bloody brilliant on the field today. Then, Sirius kept making me laugh through the whole game, making sly comments the entire time. I thought Remus was going to bonk him on the head by the end.

Marlene tugs on my sleeve. "Let's dance!"

"And where shall we dance?" I stumble slightly, in my defense the room is a little spinny.

Marlene twirls her head, searching for a proper place.

"The study table!" I announce, right as the idea pops into my head.

"Excellent!" Marlene clasps her hands together and starts dragging me through the packed space.

She weaves between bodies, warning people to move. I laugh, she is by far the most wild girl I have ever had the pleasure of befriending.

"Oh well hello there!"

Someone new grabs my wrist that's free from Marlene and I'm yanked away from her. I land into someone's chest and I'm met with a familiar pair of glasses. He brings his hands around my waist, gliding over my exposed skin between the hem of my skirt and crop top.

"Hello to you too, Potter," I greet, draping my arms over his shoulders.

"And where have you been?" He purrs, leaning in to kiss me I suspect. 

Marlene pops up next to us. "Doing shots with me! Now, if you don't mind-" she takes my arm again "-Y/N here promised me we'd dance!"

"By all means," James hands me over. "I'll find you later," he assures me.

I offer him a wink right as Marlene tugs me away. She locks arms with me as she escorts me over to the table.

"Potter is mushy-gushy into you!" She shouts in my ear over the music.

"He's just a flirt!" I dismiss, not giving it a second thought.

"You're blind!" She teases.

Once we reach the table, I grab a chair and lead to climb onto the top. Heads around us start to turn and people start clapping.

Marlene shifts on her feet, swaying slightly as points to Mary who's in charge of the music across the room. "Mary! You better play Bowie right or I swear I'll make your skin blue for a week!"

Sweet, quiet, friendly Mary raises her hands in surrender and goes to put on Marlene's Bowie record that's always by the player. Marlene jumps up and down, getting herself energized as if she's about to perform at Wembley. The familiar sound of the album Marlene had me listen to the other night starts to echo through the Common Room.

"Yes! I love this song!" Marlene takes my hands and starts dancing with me.

We sway to the music and jump about the beat. I can't help but laugh at Marlene drunken dancing, it's just a mess. She raises our hands and waves for me to spin. My eyes fall shut as I twirl about the table top. I return the favor and she spins, nearly falling over. We burst out laughing, goodness this is just awful!

She pulls me closer to shout in my ear, "Potter can't take his eyes off you!"

I search the crowd of students decked out in their gold and red. Sure enough, I spot James leaning against the back of the couch speaking with Remus. He meets my gaze, a smile on his face as he mutter something to his friend.

"He's probably just wondering what the hell our dancing is!" I laugh.

"Then show him what you can really do," she urges with a mischievous grin.

I roll eyes and nudge her playfully, "no way!"

"Oh stop it! You know you can, I know you can, so do it," she encourages.

Marlene already starts climbing down from the table before I can argue otherwise. I glance around the room nervously for a second. Now standing at my feet, she waves for me to go on. A familiar rock song starts playing and I grin, I can work with this. Swaying my hips to the beat, I get in the groove of things. Marlene starts cheering and heads start turning. More cheering ensues as people start realizing what's going on. The attention encourages me to go on, I thrive off of it. If it weren't for the firewhiskey, I would never have the guts to do this. I slowly lower myself into a squat and roll back up flirtatiously, that earns a round of applause and cheering. I shake my bum playfully and send the crowd a wink.

A hand around my wrist yanks me down and Sirius stares at me furiously. He pulls me toward him and I'm flung over his shoulder. His arms keep me balanced as I hang upside toward his back. I swing as he marches through the crowd of riled Gryffindors toward the entry way.

"Sirius! Sirius let me down!" I swat at the back of his legs.

The raven-haired boy ignores my refusal and carries me out into the abandoned stairwell.

The Fat Lady gasps. "What on Earth are you doing boy?"

He ignores her as well, marching down the stairs to who knows where.

"Okay Sirius, I'm a grown person I can walk!" I whine.

"Then stop acting like a child," he snaps back.

"Me! You're the one who's been pouting around like a baby the past week!"

Despite my insult, he just keeps going like a bloody robot, march, march, march away! I press on his back to sit up right and peer over his shoulder to see where we're going.

“You can’t just carry people like a sack of flour!” I growl.

“You can when they’re acting insane!” He yells

I smack his back. “I’m not crazy! Take that back!”

His head whips around and he glares down at me. “No, you’re just an indecisive tease who doesn’t know what she wants!”

“Me the tease?!" I laugh. "You’re the biggest man whore whoever walked these halls!”

Abruptly, Sirius makes a sharp right into an alcove with a crumbled old stairwell and greenery growing in its cracks. He sets me down on my feet with a thud. I stumble for a second, but catch my footing.

“At least when I pick a girl I’m with only her! You’re switching back and forth between me and James like you’re the quaffle in a quidditch match! Pick a team Y/N!” He fires at me.

My head shifts forward in disgust. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

He scoffs, glaring up at me as though I'm lying. "Just quit it, you know exactly what it means!"

I shake my head, dismissing his digs. "You're drunk," I reason in a hiss.

He narrows his eyes at me sharply. "What if I am? So are you, Love, but I'm not the one making a fool of myself."

"I'm making a fool of myself, so what?! I don't care anymore!" I scream at him. “Why do you care?!”

His eyes grow wide. “Are you fucking serious?!” He laughs breathlessly.

“No, you-”

In a swift motion, Sirius pins me against the wall and presses his finger to my lips. “Don’t you dare bloody say it!”

I swallow my tongue, remaining still as Sirius keeps me pinned hard against the wall. His torso presses into me and he keeps his finger over my lips. The silence is consumed by nothing else than Sirius and I catching our breath quietly. I bury my eyes into his with a deep agitation. He's the most aggravating boy I've ever met in my entire life. His sharp stare could cut me clean if I weren't immune to it. Then, to my surprise, his face softens and his hand glides to my cheek. My heart starts to race, it was before, but this time it's more life an adrenaline rush.

"Did you mean it?" He whispers.

I swallow hard, "mean what?"

"When... when you said you love most days?" He stammers nervously.

Oh. I said that randomly, without much thought. I mean, we were kidding around. We was flirting so I tossed it right back to him, it’s what we do. I didn't think... I didn't know that he would...

"I mean if you didn't-" he rushes out, avoiding my gaze, "-it's fine! I'd understand, I was-"

As he stumbles over his words uncharacteristically and I see his nervousness consume him, it hits me like a ton of brick. I did mean it, every word. 

"Yes," I answer in a mutter, afraid my voice will give out on me.

His eyes meet mine frantically. "Wait what?!"

"Yes," I repeat, licking my lips anxiously. "I meant it..."

I feel as though my heart is in my throat and I find it hard to breathe. My eyes fall to Sirius's parted lips. I'm not familiar with this feeling, this urge. My eyes flicker up to meet his as his thumb brushes across my cheek. His dark alluring gaze pours into me like a starless night sky. Then, they glance down at my lips and Sirius shifts closer to me, if that's even physically possible. He leans in and hesitantly hovers mere centimeters from me. Acting on impulse, I finish the distance and press my lips to his. The sensation is unparalleled in this world. Sirius holds both sides of my face, deepening the kiss. I drape my arms over his shoulders and comb my fingers through his shoulder length locks. It feel so right and natural, as if we've been doing it our whole life. They just... Sirius and I fit together. He's like a guiding star in a world of darkness and I cling to him for life.

______________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @hannah220506 @agirlwholovescoffee @a-classic-eye @devilstradegy @blackbirddaredevil23 @tay-mariee @blackpinkdolan @findzelda

[lord-tathamet]

The Garden at the End of the World

 The twilight wandered.

The gardener ran their fingers through the soft earth of the flowerbed, kneaded the moist dirt between thumb and pointing finger. Fertile soil, not dried and dead, filled with potential and ready to birth new life.

A basket of woven branches sat next to them, inside of it a number of cloth bags each filled to the brim with flower seeds from the fields of Goldenshire and saplings of fey trees from the Gleaming Wilds and from many other places around the world. There were seeds of rose and apple, of lilies and ebony, of palm trees and mammoth plants and hundreds more. Of every plant that a name was whispered, there existed saplings in that basket.

The gardener reached inside and lifted one of the fey saplings out of the basket. It was a small thing in a small pot of painted clay, with pale skin and roots as thin as hair. Sickly, with only a few red and blue patterned leaves that hung limpidly from tiny branches. With one hand clutching the pot, the gardener began to dig a small hole in the flowerbed.

The twilight wandered.

A hum escaped their lips, a simple melody that bounced up and down through the fields and tried to fill the calm, hollow air of the garden. It achieved only the opposite effect.

The lone gardener filled the fissures in the earth and swept away the last few loose crumbs of dirt. Then they sat back, straightened their form and looked down at the tiny sapling twisting its branches up into the sunless sky.

“Your time will come soon. You will be part of something beautiful.” The gardener ran their fingers across the thin, red-blue leaves and their smile grew melancholic for but a moment. “Just not yet.”

The lone gardener stood and picked up the basket with its seeds and saplings and left the lone fey treeling to grow.

There was a sword. Tall, lonely and beautiful in its asymmetry. A broken cross guard and chipped blade, bronze, disc-shaped ornaments sealed across its hilt, a thousand nicked scars running across its edge. It was as old as the gardener themself and never once had it been used. With every year that passed, its edge lost another one of its many nicks. It leaned patiently against a section of low drystone wall that rose near a well-trodden footpath through the garden.

“Hello, old friend.” The gardener's face lit up at the sight of the weapon. They stopped in their tracks and picked the sword up by the nicked blade. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Want to take a look at the persimmon with me?”

Their finger swept across the false edge. To an outsider, the sword seemed to have been forged for someone who was far taller than the gardener, yet they swung the sword across their shoulder as if it weighted no more than a feather. There. Now they felt complete again. The gardener didn't like leaving his only friend's side.

The twilight wandered.

The garden was as immeasurable as it was limited in its size and blaze of colours. Cherry and apple trees rose in all their white-blossom glory over indigo-blue meadows and tiny fir tree groves cast long shadows over gorse and sprawling blackberry bushes. Grey dry stone walls and wooden benches dotted the old footpaths that criss-crossed throughout the garden. Scenic creeks and picturesque ponds glinted in the twilight like puddles of red gold.

In the centre of the garden there stood a hill and on its cusp there grew a pitch-black tree. Its bark was wrinkled like old skin and riddled with knot-like growths. Its crown carried thirteen branches that stretched like hungering tendrils towards the empty sky. The tree did not carry leaves, thorns, thistles, fruits or blossoms, only bright, pale-gleaming stars.

The tree was as old as the gardener and the sword. One day, when the time was right, it would bear a single fruit.

There was no shelter, no hovel or hut, as the gardener did not have to fear any wild animals. There was no sun and no moon, for the gardener did not need to sleep nor cared for the passage of time.

The persimmons weren't looking good. None of the branches bore fruit, the roots had gained a sickly yellow colour, the leaves were shrivelled and dark. Around them, the soil itself had dried and greyed. The gardener brushed the palm of their hand across the brittle bark, then they shook their head and sighed.

“Too much acid in the soil,” they said to no one. “They couldn't make it.”

The gardener planted their sword in the earth and flames consumed the trees, leaving behind only fertile ash.

The twilight wandered.

The gardener planted new persimmon trees in the ash of the dead.

The twilight wandered.

Finished with their work, the gardener washed themselves in a near pond. Dirt and grime had settled deep in their hair and between their claws, and they had to scrub with all their might to get even the last speck out from between the ear and the horns. When they were done, they shook themselves with relish like a dog. Then it was the sword's turn. Another blemish had disappeared from its blade.

The twilight wandered.

The gardener sat cross-legged at the shores of the pond, the sword across their lap. The long cloak of rough fur and black feathers lay in a crumpled heap next to them. On top of it throned the basket made from woven branches.

The gardener looked down at the surface of the waters. Three eyes glinted back, framed by matted pitch-black hair and growing horns. They poked their tongue out at it and laughed.

The twilight wandered.

On the way back, the gardener plucked an armful of apricots from a low-hanging branch. Loaded with sword, cloak, basket and fruits, they made to climb the hill at the centre of the garden. They balanced across the twisted roots of the pitch-black tree with outstretched arms, hopped from one root to the next, as if they were stepping stones in a roaring river. Finally, they arrived at their favourite spot. A broad, smooth root that arced like a bridge into the air, just right under the pale light of the star-bearing crown.

The gardener set the basket full of seeds and saplings aside in the grass beneath. They let their legs dangle from atop the cresting root, the sword leaning against their shoulder. From up here, they could see across the entirety of the garden, all the way to the distant slopes of the dome that closed around the gardener's home, blurred in the twilight. The gardener bit into an apricot. Juicy, sour-sweet. The gardener had looked forward to enjoying some persimmons, but they liked apricots all the same.

The twilight wandered.

Above him, one of the many star lights that hung in the black tree's crown was snuffed. One day, they would all cease to be and then their time had come. When the last light on the last of the thirteen branches of the tree went out, then the tree would bear a single fruit for the gardener. And then their sword would lose its last notch and it would gleam like a thousand suns.

They would eat of the fruit and the egg that held the garden would shatter.

And then they would kill the world. And something new would be born from the ashes. Something beautiful.

The gardener wished they could be there to witness what the new world would look like. But it wasn't time just yet. For now, all thirteen branches of the tree still were ablaze with stars. The gardener tossed the stone of the apricot down the hillside.

The twilight wandered.

Down below in the garden, a sapling with red and blue patterned leaves grew. One day, the gardener hoped, it would be part of something truly beautiful.

[travellingwhisperer]

melodrama through the eyes of a (fellow) synaesthete

hello everyone! just like lorde herself, i have a strong case of synaesthesia (I get colour visions, but also tastes and scents as well), so this is my attempt to review the masterpiece that is melodrama through my synaesthetical experiences

let’s go

green light: car air freshener, heated highway and the visions you get when you drive in heat (a la mirages), blackberry-scented cheap shower gel, a pistachio green silk scarf, old school adidas kicks, lemon juice drops on fresh summer salad, beige satin, old black cars (a la classic cadillacs and jaguars), maple syrup, the heat of cairo at around 11 am

sober: ripe honeydew, the smell of guitar wood varnish, red satin ribbons, smudged glass coffee tables, spilled lemonade on said tables, peach vodka, the feel of white plaster in old museums where security guards are very strict, cough syrup (both the colour and the flavour), artificial smell of mint, mint gum, velvet red carpeting in old and badly aired town halls, the humidity of rainforest

homemade dynamite: 4 am sunrise straight after a storm with torn dark grey, nearly black clouds being ripped, smell of gasoline, deep puddles in cracked pavement, dimmed street lights about to go out, magenta, white musk perfume from the body shop, deep indigo of the nearly sunrise of mid may, that walk home from a rowdy night out when everyone is more or less sobered up, but not sober enough to feel shy yet, still drunk enough to be honest with affection and cursing and slightly slurred speech

the louvre: bamboo blinds, bamboo shoots, bonsai trees, flowing honey, varnished birchwood, sunlit old halls in ugly grey soviet buildings, silver hellium-filled balloons, white shiny doors between a party-filled room and a closet where hook-ups and one-night stands take place, old oil paint, the sunny, lemon yellow butterflies, muddly skies of july, edelflower syrup in a glass of white wine, edelflower flower crowns, an expensive pool in a mansion-like house in hollywood hills, the eerie comfort and anxiety of the opening credits of twin peaks

liability: massive bouquets of lily of the valley, white lace curtains knitted by a grandmother, greyness of a sunday in a village on a last warm october day, a single light in an office on a late night in a massive skyscraper, dried flowers, drops of nosebleed on a crystal clean white sink, grey that turns into pastel lilac, the feeling of ripped paper

hard feelings/loveless: faint sunrise shining through the windows of a manhattan apartment in a skyscraper, all shades of orange spilling onto a hi-tec kitchen, cointreau liqueur, sunny warm nights on ocean beach, lukewarm bathtubs when the bath foam has fizzled, bonfires and burned marshmallows, just the beginning of feeling buzzed (like a glass of wine in), tender shades of yellow, rustiness of old heavy doors into a basement, scaffolding sounds, first sunniest days of spring after a heavy winter, sunset in the ocean, heavy fluffy sweaters / neon diner signs, anime eyes, porcelain dolls, peach-flavoured bubblegum, glass bowls

sober ii (melodrama): colour of crimson, heavy red velvet couches, smudged matte red lipstick, glass shards, ripped pearl necklaces and scattered pearls on sticky floor, red limelight, stilettos, tight black bodysuits, smoky-eyed tall models in revealing tight and latex dresses, marble furniture with golden decor, fistfights during a party, ripped suits and thrown ties and unbuttoned white shirts on boys with wealthy fathers

writer in the dark: light parakeet green, whitewashed starched tablecloths that crunch, old wooden tables, rusty cages for canaries, Advocat liqueur, big pearl necklaces on black dresses, big sunglasses (a la Audrey’s in Breakfast at Tiffany’s), sunny Sunday mornings on a patio with a cup of fancy tea, sunday clothes, white churches in greece, silver tears and crying in the backseat after a breakup, wilted flowers in a vase with dirty water

supercut: light green and orange, Love Is bubblegum, peaches, apricots, mint, Mojitos, fairy lights above people at a rooftop party, roadtrip one takes after a breakup with all thier belongings, flavoured water that doesn’t quench thirst, sparkling water with lemon and ice cubes, worn down picnic blankets, fancy dresses girls wear to the entrance into a nightclub, folding chairs, chilled champagne

liability (reprise): cold winter wind of february, the feeling on the tip of the tongue from scolding hot tea, big white rooms in museums, light green, light smoke of e-cigarette that smells like peppermint, the smell of sunscreen, the stillness of a swimming pool at noon in heat

perfect places: red wine, swinging chandeliers, red plastic cups, glass grand pianos, the last summer party in august, that warm feeling at the end of the party where everyone’s buzzed and affectionate and there’s a lot of kissing and hugging and swinging, big fake golden earrings, summer fruits, fancy hotels and luxurious lifts/elevators, skinny dipping, black velvet dresses that touch the floor, uncontrollable laughing in comfy sweaters

[wallpapernifty]

23 Easy Ways To Facilitate Blackberry Lily | Blackberry Lily

Growing up in Oklahoma, I heard the words “pass-along plant” frequently. My grandmother admired giving a guided bout of her massive garden with many, if not best plants that had already belonged to addition else.

Aunt Emma’s geraniums, Jettie’s brush beans, Mrs. Roller’s tiger lilies, Minnie’s hollyhocks — she consistently remembered who gave her that “slip” off a bulb she had admired no amount how continued ago. And she herself had apparently anesthetized on dozens and dozens of cuttings, bulbs or seeds from anniversary of those plants to others.

Back then, they didn’t accept bounded nurseries or big box food with huge garden areas. Those plants that had been aggregate had way added personality than if they had been purchased. My grandmother’s pass-alongs were admired as abundant for their memories as for their adorableness in the garden. They were family.

One of the abounding allowances of actuality a Master Gardeners affiliate is the accepted giving and accepting of our admired pass-alongs. Aloof as some allotment recipes, administration our plants is one of the things we do best. Our garden and home would be appealing arid after my sansevieria from Mary Kay Temple, angel-wing begonia from Brenda Close, ostrich ferns from Fran Waters, angel’s trumpets from Jim Allen, Peter pepper seeds from Mabel Smartt, walking iris from Susan Ledbetter, day lilies from Donna Malkmus, association garlic from Barb Brown, hosta from Dot Henderson — the account goes on and on.

The absolutely appropriate ones are the old plants — the ones you hardly if anytime see sold, except maybe in a Master Gardeners bulb auction like our aces one in April. Best of those plants accept

23 Easy Ways To Facilitate Blackberry Lily | Blackberry Lily – blackberry lily | Welcome for you to my blog site, in this particular time I’m going to teach you about keyword. And today, here is the initial photograph:

Belamcanda chinensis or Iris domestica known as leopard lily .. | blackberry lily

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[itsallgood-man]

things I love - by color

Red

crisp fuji apples

summer strawberries from the farmers’ market

watermelon

rory’s hair

cosi’s hair

my soccer uniform

senior ties

plums from our plum tree

cherries

Orange

oranges

fresh orange juice

sunsets

the back porch in wyoming

mangoes

campfires

Yellow

sunshine

my walls

corn

yellow dresses

bananas

lemonade

sarah’s hair

Green

the oak tree in my backyard

the aspen trees in colorado

all the trees

the circle

my yoga mat

big salads

my carpet

green smoothies

my journal

my water bottle

hikes in Hawaii

avocados

Blue

the ocean

my hello kitty pillow

summer sky

lily lake

my skirts

rain

atleast half of my dad’s shirts

blueberries

Purple

banana & berry smoothies

acai bowls

grapes ;)

Black

night sky

leggings

my mini rain boots

blackberries

my favorite sweatshirt

chia seeds

White

my dog

snow

puffy clouds

the stars

coconut yogurt

coconut flakes

coconut chips

snowcaps on the Tetons

my bike

noor’s house

earbuds

daisies

the blanket on my bed

Multicolored

flowers

the stickers on my laptop

Herbert (my pencil case)

my sister’s hair

my bed

stir fry

avery’s cats

dreams

veggie burgers

birds

life

[faguscarolinensis]

Iris domestica 'Hello Yellow' / 'Hello Yellow' Blackberry Lily at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC