As the holly groweth green
And never changeth hue,
So I am, ever hath been,
Unto my lady true.
– Henry VIII
I have a love-hate relationship with holly trees.
On our property, there are three of them: two males and one female.
I love them because they are tall and beautiful – a green friend in the winter – and smell like honeysuckle when they bloom in late May.
I hate them because they drop their prickly leaves in spring — just about the time when I have a hankering for kicking off my shoes and going barefoot in my yard.
This photo was taken this morning. Holly blossoms are about as big as a pencil eraser. Observe that the stamens and anthers are nearly as big as the blossoms themselves!
(I plan on picking some as soon as I get the chance, and pressing them in my flower book.)
Did you know that holly wood is traditionally preferred for making bagpipes? Until today, I didn’t either. Thanks, Wikipedia.