I love peonies. Who can say just why – the delicate proliferation of petals, the elaborate, explosive configurations… some instinctive affinity I can’t explain. They are in season on the east coast now and I finally took some home, spending a pleasant, meditative half an hour trimming and fiddling around with them in this porcelain pitcher. Every time I change the water I can fiddle with them some more, so it’s a nice, interactive purchase.
Their fragrance is lovely, like a young, light, restrained rose with maybe a hint of white floral in these particular blooms; tuberose, lily. I hope at some point to lord over a patch of earth and plant different varietals all over.