It is undeniable that flowers evoke beauty, especially as they first bloom. But what happens to that beauty as they mature? Do they become less beautiful? Does it ever really fade away, or does it change and evolve?
For women, society makes the answer very clear — our beauty and value fade as we age. Wrinkles, laugh lines, grey hair, and many other signs of aging are meant to be corrected or hidden away. Modern manners even consider it rude to ask a woman her age, as if it is something to be ashamed of. Older women become less sexy, less temptress, and more the insignificant matron. Our value of beauty and youth fades away and we become invisible. Pushed to the background. Unseen.
As I observed these flowers age, their unique allure seemed to emerge with opulent character. An initial bouquet of common flowers evolved into a variety of exceptional samples of their species. Simple perfection gave way to endless opportunities for distinctive beauty — petals became curled and wrinkled, colors shifted and softened or became even bolder, stems and leaves posed themselves in more interesting ways. These flowers had wilted, not weakness or shame, but with strength and artistry. Why can’t we appreciate the aging of women the same way?