That which we call a rose

Pink roses

How many scoops?

… That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet

says Juliet, wishing Romeo had a different name.

So are we sure these are roses? They look like ice cream to me; 3 good scoops and some drippy bits.

In Italy, land of ice cream, ‘pink’ and ‘rose’ are the same word.

Pink ice cream, then – water melon flavour, perhaps.

Just what I could do with right now.

Symbiosis

 

Carpenter bee visiting a hibiscus flower

Carpenter bee visiting a hibiscus flower

The word comes from the Ancient Greek and usually means a mutually beneficial relationship between different species.

The bee wants the nectar and the hibiscus wants to be pollinated.

However the bee, in its eagerness, seems to be taking the relationship one step further.

Its passionate, diving embrace of the flower’s pistil looks more like romance.

A naughty world

Shining in a naughty world

Shining in a naughty world

“Naughty but nice,”  “Naughty, naughty,” “Naughty bits.”

I had a South American friend once who loved the word because of its cosy connotations.

It’s one of the last epithets we’d think of applying to the world as Shakespeare did in ‘The Merchant of Venice’:

That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

In Shakespeare’s day the meaning of the word was closer to its origin of ‘naught -y’ i.e. worthless.

Etymology shifts can be quite amusing.

 

Texture

Close-up of a prematurely split pomegranate

Close-up of a prematurely split pomegranate

Our Art teacher at school was always going on about texture in our drawing and painting.

I’m sure she’d have wanted to give us this pomegranate as a subject.

Texture is important in writing as well, being (among other things) the grittiness or smoothness imparted by different lengths of words, sentences and paragraphs.

There’s also flavour.

I can tell you that these unripe seeds are extremely sharp.