One of my early childhood memories was being in a garden with light blue roses. There was a woman there with me who was like a mother figure but she wasn’t my mother.
I later learned this couldn’t have happened since no true blue roses exist.
No, not the flowers . Every so often, my dad would eat one of the guavas, and I remember him showing me how sweet they were. I guess because we were city kids, we were suspicious of most of the things growing around the house, and many of the ornamental plants were toxic, like the oleanders we used to have. Anyway, maybe I’ll taste one the flowers next time I’m over there .
This is going to sound strange, but I love baby’s breath- the little white flower they put as an accent in all the bouquets. They remind me of little fairies <3
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