Hiberna Flores

Excerpt from essay by Dick Goody: The poetry, the beauty, the allure of flowers is compressed into their short-lived perfection; their fleeting presence is part of their magnetism. Their poised functionality as receptors for pollinators is all-encompassing. Immaculate visually encoded landing pads, only their winged visitors comprehend their inscrutable methodology. But biological expediency is largely lost to us in our contemplation of them for they exist most powerfully in our imagination. In our mind’s eye, they are synonyms for desire, love and paradoxically, death because their allure is inextricably linked to their certain demise; so brief is their floral presence. Once fertilized, everything goes to seed and we are left to await the next growing season. Flowers truly exist mostly in our memory. A poignantly discovered pressed flower, hidden in the ancient leaves of a long-shelved book, resonates because of its intoxicating archival trace back to its once living existence.