A Psychology of Flowers?

I Detest





I Love

Chicory looks most beautiful at dusk; their blue heads seemingly floating freely like bright disks shining in a lucid auric light. They alight the ditches of every rural Illinois back road, transforming any leisurely drive, if taken at the right time of day, into a psychedelic meditation where every translucent petal calls out and magnetically pulls you into a deep intoxicating dream. I love them. They're my favorite of all flowers.