Gerbera daisy. I can't decide whether this blossom is supposed to be awkward and charming. Or whether it was deformed by insects, the stress of transplanting, or life on Earth.
They emerge from dirt, mud, manure, wood chips, worms, sow bugs.
They taken in water and sun.
And here they are — with their clean, symetrical lines, dewy textures and colors beyond naming.
How do they do it?
The camelias in our Northern California front yard start blooming around Christmas. Does that make them late fall -- or early spring -- bloomers?
Is this a daisy? Not shy, it announced itself from a flower bed at St. John's College in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in early August.
I planted these gerbera daisies so that I could have them as cut flowers. But then I couldn't bear to cut them. Photos c 2009 B.F. Newhall
