Abstract
Flowers aren't just pretty trinkets we enjoy for a moment. They're among the most remarkable structures in nature. Each spring, colorful gems begin popping up through the dark soil around my Arkansas home-I'm not just referring to the pearly pink tulips in my garden, but the sparkling trove of rainbow jewels in the wild. In my yard, yellow daffodils lift their faces to the sun. In a nearby meadow, striped violet Johnny-jump-ups in shades of amethyst appear, seemingly overnight. The display follows a similar order annually. Dandelions and clover add sparkle among the emerald fields of petal-less Bermuda and Kentucky bluegrass. Soon afterward, dogwoods display their latest batch of white blossoms. By midsummer the exhibit dazzles with a profusion of lilies, marigolds, and lavender that appear behind my house. Later, the purple, burgundy, and orange hues of sweet-smelling asters and chrysanthemums herald the arrival of autumn. And right before the world's floral life goes dormant again, the holly tree's tiny white blooms have produced their familiar red berries, while ruby poinsettias arrive at the supermarket just in time to close another year. This succession of visual and aromatic splendor far surpasses any man-made wonder you'll find on the banquet tables of palaces or within the inner sanctum of temples. It's as if some great King in heaven wanted to fill his earthly court with lavish reminders of his own power and delight in beauty.