Some articles on flowers, flower:
... Their large, fragrant flowers give them their common name of angel's trumpets, a name sometimes used for the closely related genus Datura ... Brugmansia are woody trees or shrubs, with pendulous, not erect, flowers, that have no spines on their fruit ... species are herbaceous bushes with erect (not pendulous) flowers, and most have spines on their fruit ...
... The plant produces two types of flowers ... Submerged cleistogamous flowers remain closed and self-pollinate, and flowers that bloom above the surface of the water open into white blossoms and may cross with other individuals ...
... It flowers for a few months during the spring, with small white flowers with pink streaks ... Red or violet flowers also occur rarely ... During the night or when it rains both flowers and leaves contract ...
... The flowers grow in racemes or solitary ... The lip is nonresupinate, so the flower appears upside down compared to most orchids ... The flowers consist essentially of the sepals ...
... Oaks supply insect and flower food the acorns are of little value ... Honeysuckle bark is their primary nesting material, and flowers and fruit are used for food ... Bramble flowers and fruits provide food over a long period ...
Famous quotes containing the word flowers:
“Unmeasured power, incredible passion, enormous craft: no thought
apparent but burns darkly
Smothered with its own smoke in the human brain-vault: no thought
outside; a certain measure in phenomena:
The fountains of the boiling stars, the flowers on the foreland, the
ever-returning roses of dawn.”
—Robinson Jeffers (1887–1962)
“Sweet ladies, long may ye bloom, and toughly I hope ye may thole,
But was she not lucky? In flowers and lace and mourning,
In love and great honor we bade God rest her soul
After six little spaces of chill, and six of burning.”
—John Crowe Ransom (1888–1974)
“Dule and wae for the order sent our lads to the Border;
The English, for ance, by guile won the day:
The Flowers of the Forest, that foucht aye the foremost,
The prime o’ our land, are cauld in the clay.”
—Jean Elliot (1727–1805)