Lady in Satin, Lady in White

In the last several days, I have seen lovely white gardenia blossoms

opening on several plants in the Shire.

I know gardenias are known for their heady perfume,

but it seems the ones I've passed  in the neighborhood,

 including those growing in my backyard around a small fountain, are not so fragrant.

I always blame newer cultivars for such a turn of events

because I think the lovely perfumes
that made antique plants so loved get lost in hybrids.

But what doesn't get left out are the luscious satiny-white blossoms.

Here's a bloom from one of my small gardenias.

It's so fragile and delicate it looks like one that Billie Holiday,

Lady Day herself, would choose to wear in her hair:

Here the gardenia rests against a stony border:

Glossy green leaves and satin-white petals

made the gardenia a popular wedding flower

before the 1950s when most bridal bouquets were still primarily white.

But I think the most romantic notion I know of 

for white flowers and plants is a night garden.
Night gardens are sometimes called moon gardens
because they are planted with white flowers and plants
that glow in the moonlight.
I've always intended to plant a night garden
to catch the moonlight on a warm summer night.
A garden of gardenias and other flowers in white,
all aglow from stardust and moonlight.
Sounds magical.
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