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Danedottir posted an update Friday, Jul 29, 2011, 7:08pm EDT, 14 years, 2 months ago
Suddenly the peonies have come into their full adult beauty, not strapping, but statuesque--the beauty of women, as Chekhov says, "with plump shoulders" and with long hair held precariously in place by a few stout pins. They are white, voluminous, and here and there display flecks of raspberry red on the edges of their fleshy, heavily scented petals.
These are not Protestant-work-ethic flowers. They loll about in gorgeousness; they live for art; they believe in excess. They are not quite decent, to tell the truth. Neighbors and strangers slow their cars to gawk.
From The Moment of Peonies, an essay by Jane Kenyon. Photo taken by Llyn in June 2010.