They don’t agonize over their calling, asking endless questions like “was I meant to be an iris or a rose? Perhaps I’ve missed my true destiny and I should have become a lilac bush.”

They never worry “does this shade of hot pink make my stem look fat? Does this purple match with this pink? Will it make people stare at me if I mix colours?”

They simply burst forth in bold, raucous colours.

Sometimes I envy the flowers.

Photos taken at the conservatory in Toronto. No, we’re not even close to seeing blooms around here yet.

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