Art Direction and Words by Emma Childs

Inspired by the Victorian tradition of floriography, the cryptological communication of flowers and their assigned meanings, this is a love story that uses flowers to tell its tale.

baby’s breath=innocence

They had known each other—or, well, known of each other, that is—for several years. They lived across the street from one another and often shared quick, curious glances when they happened to peer out their windows at the same time. On one June day, they locked eyes from within their corresponding homes as the sun’s rays beamed through the glass, promising warmth and ushering the two children outside. They ran out their front doors, exchanged delicate waves, and toothy grins bloomed across both of their faces. They shouted their introductions across the way and just like that, as children often do with masterful speed, a friendship was formed. To the left of the asphalt that separated them was a patch of baby’s breath.

gerbera daisies = cheerfulness

The summer continued on and the pair grew more and more intertwined with each passing day. When they were together, absent was any shred of discomfort. On one particularly humid July afternoon, a bout of sticky rain interrupted their daily exploration of the neighborhood. They leapt up the road, scurrying their way through the wetness and cackling with cheer. After a few minutes of frantic jogging, they sought shelter under the awning of a neighboring bakery, both their sides aching from laughter. On the windowsill of the bakery was a pot filled with gerbera daisies, the bright petals contrasting starkly with the grey sky. 

white chrysanthemum = truth

Despite all their other young friendships disbanding as the whimsies of childhood withered away, these two remained extraordinarily close. Things certainly had changed though. Their baby teeth were long gone and hair was growing in new places and sometimes their cheeks would flush if a glance was held for too long. They went for a walk on one afternoon when they didn’t know what to do with themselves, both of them acutely aware of when their arms would brush together. They paused to say hello to an older neighbor who was arranging a flower box in her front yard. She remarked on how much the two of them had grown and how wonderful it was to see them blossom into young adults. They both smiled, a slight blush glowing in their cheeks. The neighbor stood up, brushed the dirt off of her knees, and handed them one of her recently plucked flowers: a white chrysanthemum. The two of them looked down at their new floral gift, inhaling its earthy, sweet scent, and reflected on what their neighbor had just shared. The bond they shared was something bigger than themselves and they could not run from the truth of it anymore.

allium = patience

The years trickled on and soon the circumstances changed. They would no longer live across from one another and they would be forced to encounter the unfamiliarities of the world. On the eve of their separation, they held each other and listened to the seconds tick onward, their bodies content to be side by side. Next to them rested a single allium flower, its purple hue providing an aura of hope. The young couple listened to their words echo in the heavy air: remember me, think of me, wait for me.

hibiscus = delicate beauty

During their time apart, they remained in close contact and would share adventures and updates over late night phone calls. Eventually, however, the phone calls became less and less frequent and life continued on. They both found others to occupy their time and were happy with their new partners. But often times when night fell and the memory of their childhood companionship popped up, a twinge of “What if?” plagued them both relentlessly. Neither of them were able to shake this pestering question and after several years of navigating life without the other, conditions were generous enough to reunite the pair. What they had between them, what they have had since they were children, was too beautiful to risk to chance again. They were married on a warm summer day on a tropical beach halfway across the world. During the ceremony, hibiscus petals floated in the wind, creating a swirling flock of pink and red on the horizon.

hydrangea = grateful

Countless seasons had come and gone since their younger years, leaving behind a long trail of wilted flowers. The pair eventually returned to the street where it all began and bought a house together. They no longer galloped up the road to escape the rain since their joints now protested against long spurts of activity. Instead, they spent most of their time working in the garden that they had cultivated throughout the years. Their yard was a technicolor dream, a colorful landscape composed of a wild assortment of flora. The two of them always agreed, however, that their favorites were the two blue hydrangea bushes that framed their entryway. Every time dusk fell, the couple would watch the cerulean clusters of the hydrangea reflect their white and blue hues in the fading sunlight. This was how the old couple liked to end their days; the two of them, side by side, watching these flowers transform as night took hold. Neither of them ever spoke in these moments, as their peaceful silence expressed more gratitude for each other than their words ever could.