This is what I like most of all in flowers: paradoxically, their endurance. The impression they give of a power in time, disseminated in space. Their seed-bomb aspect. The movement toward the future this includes and brings to mind. The bomb-about-to-go-off side of them, the awareness of their power, of their seed-charge. This, glorious and touching, frail and disarming all at once. The ephemeral bubble aspect, the fireworks of generosity, specific or familial, volleys of possibility, promises of generation…