If roses are Queen, then the peony is the Princess. Nothing quite compares to their perfectly imperfect ruffles, subtle color and long thornless stems. When I see the first peony sprouts pushing though the hard winter soil of my garden in early spring, I get so excited. I nurture them, watch them and protect them. When they bloom, I feel like a proud mother, watching her daughter in a pink puffy tutu at a ballet recital. Perhaps I am being a touch dramatic – but they are my favorite flower.
It is a rainy Monday morning here in the Northwest, but my freshly cut peonies are quietly dancing in the corner of our kitchen, letting me know that summer is just around the corner.
Have a great week everyone –