Photo Blog Du Jour

The plural is waters lily.

Cycad cone. I see no reason to discriminate against cycads just because they hadn't invented flowers yet.

We aperiodically feature society garlic in these pages. So, enjoy our society pages for a day! Otherwise, how would you know it was society pages day?

It's almost like people can't read. Perhaps "harm" is unclear. Perhaps we should say "do not carve your bloody initials into the bloody bottle tree". Or we could supply a separate pad of paper or a rock and a carving knife nearby for people to get their kinks out safely.

In the deepest darkest copses of the botanical garden, we find the Hibiscus laevis, or Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow. Surrounded by friends, serenaded by butterflles, birds and faeries, coddled by parents, Rose Mallow grew to statuesque and Amazonian dimensions.

Aeonium bought all the vowels and so went broke and lost at Whelp of Fortune.

Kinetic sculptures by Mother Nature in collaboration with Alexander Calder. Kits available in the lobby store on your exit from the museum

p.s. There's one non-cactus here. But it'll prick your fingers, so not out of place.

Phew! Finally got that out. Can you imagine giving birth under these circumstances?

Pre-pubescent probosci or is it proboscuses? Proboscises apparently. Anyway, it's not nice to make fun of Cactus Pinocchio here after he told a four dimensional lie causing proboscises to burst out all over.

Olde Yeller cactus flower, adopted by Travis, Olde Yeller surrounded the family farmstead, protecting them from an encroachment of bears, though also preventing Travis from leaving the farmstead. Later, when homophobic wolves moved into the area, Olde Yeller explained the error of their ways and gently escorted them to the county line, though not without the occasional nip on the homophobic buttocks to hasten them along.

They really pack those flowers in. Necessary when there's not much space. Then the bee comes along, saying, "so much flower, so little time."

Explosion in space and no one can hear you scream. In fact, you can't scream at all because all the air has been ripped from your lungs. Sorry for the downer post, was just thinking about the Alien franchise.

Blue rock a bye bindweed, on your knee tops, When the wind blows the cradle will blue rock bindweed

If you reach down and kiss this water lily, it turns into a frog. If in turn you kiss that frog, it'll turn in to a diamond ring.

Alas no dahlia, but a waterlily. Looking pretty. Wish I could grow waterlilies me, but I'd need a larger staff than I currently have.

Fifteen flagrantly flawless flamboyant fringe festival flowers found frequently fluttering if not frantically floating in fox-laden frozen fjords in Fall.