The Cottage with The Black Petunias.

This perfect little cottage in its perfect little street was my introduction to what are now one of my favourite flowers. The young gentleman that lived here saw me admiring them one light filled sunny day, he came outside and I asked, pointing to the overflowing abundance of black petals, “what are they, please?” He told me and we exchanged warm smiles and wished each other a lovely day, and I continued on my walk through the town of Old Leigh on Sea. I fell in love with these petals of dancing darkness that day, and I planted them in my garden the very next year, always with an admiration and the memory of where I had first encountered them.

I often walk past this cottage during the summer months & sometimes I would see the gentleman, we would say hello, and I would stop to admire his overflowing ink-welled pots of beauty. Always thankful for his bountiful black blooms and their influence on my flower filled heart.

Then yesterday as I was walking on his street I felt the excitement of seeing my favourite flowers in full bloom… but as I turn the corner I see that they are gone…I get closer and instead of our beloved black petunias I am greeted by a garden full of wreathes and sadness. My heart sinks as I realise my flower friend is no more.

I gently bow down to read a card on one of the wreathes and I find out his name was George… Lovely George…I begin to cry as I saw the SON Wreath and know the loss that must be felt by those that he has left behind. These outpourings of love lay where the black petunias had once bloomed. I am filled with sadness for the friend I never knew.

So lovely George I have written this story to say goodbye and to tell you that I will plant these beautiful flowers in your honour every year, and in another life, when I’m walking down the street where you live, I shall stop, admire the beautiful flowers that you bloom and I will smile and say hello.

From the friend you never knew…Molls 🖤