Flora et Fauna

Flowers in a Terracotta Vase
Rachel Ruysch

Florigraphy. The language of flowers. Struck my fancy since yesterday. I went to see Young Victoria. Not a movie I would recommend spending $12.50 to see.

Nevertheless, as a hopeless romantic, I found myself swept up in the England's landscapes and gardens. Victorians were enamored of everything botanical and especially flowers. Young women "au fait" (fully versed) in the art of floral arrangements, growing, preserving, pressing and painting flowers were considered the pinnacle of refinement.

I am neither "au fait" in the art of floral arrangements, or for that matter in growing, preserving, pressing and painting flowers. I do have a plant in my house. How it is still with me after 16 years is a miracle in itself. I forget to water it. Forget to pull the blinds down so it gets drenched in the hot blazing sun from around noon to sundown and I've placed it right near the radiator so I'm sure I've dried out its roots. I probably would not have been considered very useful, or elegant or "refined." I wonder how I would have made it then. The thought of wearing a corset is terrifying. And the innumerable layers and density of their underclothes would have seriously hampered my life style.

Rules make the hair on my neck stand up and I have the unfortunate propensity to speak loudly in small places. I'm definitely not musical. The only thing I can play on the piano is chopsticks or greensleeves. I can't sing (can never remember the words or the tune). I can't sew. Or crochet or knit or embroider. Painting or watercoloring are not my forte. I do speak French. I am quite witty and conversational but am awful at cards, archery and curtsying. And if anyone really cares to know, the thought of having to ride side saddle is unimaginable. How I would been able to stay on the horse is beyond me since I tend to fall off things instead of stay on them. I fell off a bus once. That was really embarrassing. Think of the horror if I had to wear long dresses with petticoats and carry an umbrella in one hand, a fan in the other. In the summer no less! Should I continue?

That being said, the beauty and splendor of their forests and gardens stay with me. They are wild and tame. Endless. Tranquil. Calming. Inspiring. Getting lost in nature is a gift. Living in the city on concrete is not. Had it not been for Victorians we would not have had Central Park. And I don't know how many people have noticed recently but they have been slowly but surely renovating it. Oddly enough the fountains and lamps resemble the architecture of the Victorian period. As I walk through it on the rare occasion I feel transported back in time. Only this time I have the luxury of walking without a chaperone, being able to wear comfortable clothes and certainly not having to carry an umbrella.

Dedicated to A.
(c) 2010