Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. We have never been ‘hearts and teddies’ sorts of people so card companies, chocolate manufacturers and florists would have a hard time if they relied on us for a living. We love to celebrate on special occasions – of course we do! – but in ways that are simple, personal and meaningful and we would choose experience over ‘stuff’ every time. So, building work permitting, we are planning to have a lovely trip out sometime in the coming days with a special picnic, back to Somiedo Natural Park to walk again in the Kingdom of the Bear. We’re not expecting deep snow this time but hopefully a fine show of alpine flowers instead.
In the meantime, I am enjoying two beautiful gifts. The first is the rose we were given by Roger’s mum and dad to mark our rather large anniversary two years ago. It’s called ‘For Your Eyes Only’ and is truly exquisite; when I was having to make some very tough decisions about which plants to bring to Asturias, this one was top of the list. It’s been growing quite happily in a large pot but we have recently earmarked the perfect spot for a permanent planting in the autumn. Here it is now, enjoying a second flush bang on time for our anniversary and lighting up our seating area with its pretty blooms – when the evening sun shines through them, the effect is magical. Gorgeous, gorgeous thing!
Now for my second little posy of happiness. If I had to choose just one wild flower there is no question that it would be honeysuckle. I love its wild, untamed nature, climbing and twisting through hedges and up trees, weaving its gentle beauty among the green and brown; I love those spidery flowers with their tubular petals and delicate stamens, the soft colours from palest buttery cream to deepest duskiest pink; above all, I love that sweet heady perfume wafting along lanes and through the woodland – for me, the pure scent of summer. No surprise, then, that when it came to organising my bridal bouquet, honeysuckle was top of the list. “Oh no”, said the florist, holding his hands up in horror, “it’s just not possible. Honeysuckle doesn’t hold up, it will wilt, it won’t last. It just can’t be done.” Now I like to think I’m a fairly easy-going, reasonable person (those who know me might want to disagree) but at this point I do have to confess that I had a complete Bridezilla moment: nobody – NOBODY – was going to tell me I couldn’t carry honeysuckle on my wedding day. Fine, I replied. If that was the case, he could keep his bouquet and I would simply go out on the morning of our big day and pick myself a big bunch of honeysuckle to carry up the aisle. Honeysuckle or nothing. End of story. Bless the poor man, he backed down immediately and in my bouquet was the most beautiful deep pink honeysuckle mingled with cream rosebuds and tiny ivy leaves . . . and what’s more, it lasted all day without any problem. So when Roger appeared after an evening walk this week with this beautiful creamy symbolic little posy for me, what else could I do but smile?
The little blue vase is symbolic, too. It was made in the year we were married in a pottery in the pretty Saxon town where we were married and there have been very few weeks since when it hasn’t held a posy of fresh flowers gathered from the garden or hedgerow. Simple, personal, meaningful. Surely this is how love should be? Forget the hearts and helium balloons: I am a very lucky lady! 🙂