Foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis) is a native flowering plant in the Plantaginaceae family. It is also known as talus slope penstemon and white beardtongue.It is a glabrous (hairless) tall plant  <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herbaceous_plant> with opposite, shiny green, simple leaves, on slender, purple stems.  The flowering panicle (a loosely branched compound flower cluster or inflorescence) extends to almost one third of the plant's height and has pairs of branches which repeat with two flowers multiple times. The flowers are two lipped and tubular. At the base you can see the white ‘beardtongue’.  Waiting for Beardtongue Were you here with me under the tangle of contrails, we’d wait for the beardtongue, and I’d show you where the none-too-demure stands will erupt in the hard places: the sorry, washed out soil of the hillside, road cuts, and abandoned mounds of ballast. Although I know this stamp of land as well as a scribe knows his vellum, I’m not inured to the surprise and ecstasy of waiting for beardtongue: waiting is how we measure time here. Not by Chronos, Kairos, A theory, B theory, or relativity — But rather by the exquisite waiting: first for the gray-green leaves to clasp the limber, nimble stems, then for the stems to bear the loads of two-lipped, chaliced white flowers turning the field into a mural of serene, white-robed Etruscans. In the all-too-brief two weeks when the beardtongue blooms, I become the great shirker of obligation, look askance at my pressing labors, leave be fields that should be tended and barns that should be mended. For this is the season of untethering oneself from the dogged troubles of tomorrow; this is the season of surfeit, when the plain is aproned in the raiment of beardtongue. Lagniappe

Flower for the Day Foxglove Beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis)

> > Foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis) is a native flowering plant in the Plantaginaceae family. It is also known as talus slope penstemon and white beardtongue.It is a glabrous (hairless) tall plant with opposite, shiny green, simple leaves, on slender, purple stems. > >  > > The flowering panicle (a loosely branched compound flower cluster or inflorescence) extends to almost one third of the plant's height and has pairs of branches which repeat with two flowers multiple times. The flowers are two lipped and tubular. At the base you can see the white ‘beardtongue’. >  > > Waiting for Beardtongue > > Were you here with me under the tangle > of contrails, we’d wait for the beardtongue, > and I’d show you where the none-too-demure > stands will erupt in the hard places: > the sorry, washed out soil of the hillside, > road cuts, and abandoned mounds of ballast. > > Although I know this stamp of land as well > as a scribe knows his vellum, I’m not > inured to the surprise and ecstasy > of waiting for beardtongue: waiting is how > we measure time here. Not by Chronos, > Kairos, A theory, B theory, or relativity — > > But rather by the exquisite waiting: > first for the gray-green leaves to clasp > the limber, nimble stems, then for the stems > to bear the loads of two-lipped, chaliced white > flowers turning the field into a mural > of serene, white-robed Etruscans. > > In the all-too-brief two weeks when > the beardtongue blooms, I become > the great shirker of obligation, > look askance at my pressing labors, > leave be fields that should be tended > and barns that should be mended. > > For this is the season of untethering > oneself from the dogged troubles of tomorrow; > this is the season of surfeit, when the plain > is aproned in the raiment of beardtongue. > > > Lagniappe > >

Flower for the Day California Poppy 6-16-26

This year we have California Poppy (Eschscholzia California) in several gardens. Also called golden poppy, Mexican poppy and pot of gold, it is a native in the Papaveraceae family. It has alternating branching glaucous (pale blue green) foliage. The flowers are solitary on long stems, silky textured, and with four petals.  The California Poppy <https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_california_poppy_147295> Orange glowing in a field of green Or along a mountain side. Silky petals reach toward the sun And dance in the spring breeze. At night they cup their faces Conserving strength for tomorrow. Barbara Gorelick

Flower for the Day Sweetbay Magnolia 6-15-26

This gorgeous blossom is from the sweetbay magnolia (Magnolia virginiana) bwhich has flourished by our garage for over fifty years. It is a deciduous tree which can grow to 100 feet. The flowers are creamy white with multiple petal-like tepals. A tepal is an outer part of the blossom (the perianth) when these parts cannot easily be classified as either sepals or petals which in magnolias is because they are undifferentiated or very similar in appearance. The flowers have a very strong vanilla scent.  Here is an unrelated poem. If Adam Picked The Apple There would be a parade, a celebration, a holiday to commemorate the day he sought enlightenment. We would not speak of temptation by the devil, rather, we would laud Adam's curiosity, his desire for adventure and knowing. We would feast on apple-inspired fare: tortes, chutneys, pancakes, pies. There would be plays and songs reenacting his courage. But it was Eve who grew bored, weary of her captivity in Eden. And a woman's desire for freedom is rarely a cause for celebration. Danielle Coffyn

Flower for the Day Hoya 6-11-26

We are down to three inside plants- a huge fern, a large night blooming cerise , and a hoya (Hoya carnosa). We used to take the hoya outside where it bloomed often. It hangs for the landing and has luscious thick green leaves.  It has not bloomed for a decade but yesterday Jan looked up and saw two blossoms.   It was a thrill after so many barren years. There is nothing more magical than living from blossom to blossom. From Blossoms From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches we bought from the boy at the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches. From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat. O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom. Li-Young Lee

Flower for the Day Yellow Crownbeard

This time of year for almost a month the yellow crown beard (Verbena heliathoides) line the far meadow edge from the south down the hill all the way to the north base and then back east past the dog pen.  They are a native asters.  They are tall perennials with hairy winged stems and alternate leaves.  Each composite flower has tubular disc flowers surrounded by about twelve rays.  VERBESINA Dark does not fall: it rises from the soil, seeping along the flattened grass of the dim path and flowing up trees already black, night’s conduits, forked darkening against the retreating light, while below them in the field the crownbeard on its winged stem makes a last effort, waggling its two or three yellow rays, lifting its small cluster of disc petals in imitation of the sun—though its leaves have gone quiet already, and the pollinators sleep their insect sleep. * Sleep is just a way to talk about what happens in the dark, what the cells do, what color green is, when no light shines on it. The crownbeard holds still now, nothing moves under the streetlights in the ramifying subdivisions. Wings close, and petals. Eyes see nothing that is not inward and radical. There are boundaries, such as where stem becomes root, and where the taproot probes among stones, and we may travel them, through capillaries and waterways and geographies of decomposition. Underground is like aboveground inverted, a reflection of sorts, uncertain and hopeful as seedheads at seedtime. ….. Maura Hill

Flower for the Day Asiatic Lilies 6-5-26

The asiatic lillies (Lilium) have been blooming. They bloom earlier and have deeper color than the oriental lilies.      The deer love to eat the growing tips of these lilies. If they do the plant does not bloom.  The only ones that survive are those that are deeper into the garden. Those on the edges are goners. such is the fate of the urban gardener. Lilies Sitting by the banks of my village pond, I see majestic lotus sprouting all over the water, The red, pink and white petals over the green leaves, casts an aura of eternal beauty in my spirits. When I go to the little village market, I find flower vendors selling the beautiful lotus, I see the majesty turned into helpless offering, I see the perpetual flower with seeded body crying for self esteem. The beautiful white Calla Lily adorned with smooth green stem, makes me think it as a nice offering to the memory of my loved ones, The smooth and sensuous beauty of the pristine white lily, would enhance the beauty of my love with purity and divinity. When I look at the yellow Asiatic lily, I see an exalted beauty radiating her charm away. while the white Lily shows us the glimpse of heavenly resurrection, the beautiful yellow lily invites us to enjoy our life on the earth with elation. We forget the blue, violet, pink and green lilies, their beauty invokes some spiritual love with nature in our hearts, they don't fear the adverse and unknown dangers, they stand smiling fearless and eager to rekindle our souls. Jay P Narain Note: While downloading this poem I got hacked and after a harrowing adventure I think I’m OK. They were able to completely take over and block my screen but Apple Support was able to help me get my screen back and I don’t think they got into my computer. Be careful out there. Apple says it never blocks a computer screen and they are not permitted to give their last name. DS

Flower for the Day Larkspur 6-4-26

> Begin forwarded message: > > From: Don Sessions <donsessions@aol.com> > Subject: Flower for the Day Larkspur 6-4-26 > Date: June 4, 2026 at 11:15:05 AM CDT > > Here is a field circle overflowing with many colored larkspur (delphinium). The name is from the ancient gGreek word for dolphin. It is toxic to deer but they do not eat it. >  > > The stem is erect and tall. The leaves are deeply lobed with 3 to7 toothed pointed lobes in a palmate shape.  > The plant is topped with a raceme of many flowers of various color. The flowers are bilaterally symmetrical and have many stamens. Each flower consists of five petal-like sepals which grow together to form a hollow pocket with a spur at the end, which gives the plant its name, usually more or less dark blue. Within the sepals are four true petals, small, inconspicuous, and commonly colored similarly to the sepals. The uppermost sepal is spurred, and encloses the nectar-secreting spurs of the two upper petals. >   Delphinium by Nydia Rojas Next <https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=2593> The delphinium growing in the garden stands tall, its flowers mirroring the limpid summer sky. Around it, serenity has built a sanctuary where bees and butterflies seek refuge. The flower stalk stands tall above the leaves as if wanting to see the world around it or get closer to the sky and blend colors or simply to offer its beauty, mysterious impulses guiding it to put its flowers on display for whoever happens to walk by. © by Nydia Rojas.

Flower for the Day Showy Milkweed 6-2-26

In the front garden we have showy milkweed (Asclepius speciosa). It is a milky sapped perennial in the dogbane family which is why it looks like yesterday’s bluestar. The plant is erect on a hairy stalk with pointed simple opposite leaves.  The hairy flowers grow in dense umbellate cymes. Their corollas are reflexed and the central flower parts, five hoods with prominent hooks, form a star shape.  Asclepias speciosa is a specific food for the monarch butterfly. So far we have only seen one very skittish monarch who went only to our Sweet William.  If I Were A Monarch Butterfly I’d play Django Reinhardt’s gypsy jazz as I rambled. Like Romani everywhere, my roots are temporary, my wings all bling, swing, my story backed with chords, percussion, sweep of strings. Improvisation keeps me aloft as I glide through air like flecks of sunlight adrift on morning tides. Fueled by lilt of violins, acoustic guitar arpeggios, wind shear keeps me dancing from milkweed to magenta cone flower to golden jungle marigolds. Tune in to my background story, a glissando shift from bass to highest C notes. I can’t be constrained, reined in, pinned down. Watch me soar from hot club to blues bar, from waltz to swing dance. Follow me as I cross mountains, boundaries, border walls, from Clouds to that elusive Mansion of Our Dreams. Mary K O'Melveney .

Flower for the Day Eastern Bluestar 6-1-26

Eastern bluestar (Amsonia tabernaemontana) is a flowering plant in the dogbane family (Apocynaceae) first described as a genus in 1788. A native to North america it was named after two physicians - Charles Amson and Jacob Theodor von Bergzabern. Take that to bed with you.  The plant produces clump-forming perennial upright stems and narrow, willow-like leaves. It produces clusters of star-shaped, pale blue flowers in spring and develops elongated paired follicles that contain cylindrical seeds.  Once a Blue Star As Hot As It Was When I look at the dandelion king of the sky, It isn't the same blue rose we knew it was once Like the rhythm of your heart Beating, pulsating, running to a face I don't know. It has only been seconds since a part of me died, Yet it feels like a century of seasons changing. Flowers bloom, Leaves set fire upon themselves, And through the passion of the flames, The leaves come out, fall out, anew With colors different Before the coldness of the world finally kills them. And yes, it has been a century Just looking at all these people wrap their arms around 'true love'. I do not drown in my own tears. I swallow them, then cry again. The pain has even surpassed death Since they all make me feel so alive, The wounds you left me When I saw your eyes dilating, Yearning For someone else. Danielle Mari Nidea