A gardenia, right? I love their fragrance. My mother planted a number of them around the front porch when I was a child, and I would sit out there for hours going all dreamy smelling them. This was in Houston, where many of the roofs were flat and covered with that sort of marble-sized crushed marble, and the flower beds by the porch had lots of that white rock in them where it had washed off the roof. Now every time I see white stone I think of gardenias.
Beautiful. Love those droplets.
A gardenia, right? I love their fragrance. My mother planted a number of them around the front porch when I was a child, and I would sit out there for hours going all dreamy smelling them. This was in Houston, where many of the roofs were flat and covered with that sort of marble-sized crushed marble, and the flower beds by the porch had lots of that white rock in them where it had washed off the roof. Now every time I see white stone I think of gardenias.
The petals fascinate me. They look like porcelain, or foam rubber. Instead of reflecting light they seem to glow from within.