The perennial debate that only I seem to be having
To Spring, a great blossom, and to Autumn, the same. But they are not the same blossom, for each has its time, and only its time.
This is the time of the peony (pee-uh-nee, <does not rhyme with tony>). Not the first flower of spring. Crocuses, daffodils, tulips, irises have all paraded past us. Dandelions and clover have speckled our lawns for weeks. Flowering trees are making fruit. Spring is ending, summer is beginning, we have three to four more months of warm weather, is this any time for a crescendo?
Ahhh, the peony. The peony is summer’s first orgasm. The peony is a teenager’s first drink, and it is a big one. Dahlias, and we’ll talk about them next autumn, are finished pieces. They’re mathematically correct, fluent in Japanese, English, and French. A dahlia is polished. The teachers discuss: Should our class groups, at the all-school assemblies, share what they are working on, or only the perfected performances? You know which is which. The peony is a dress rehearsal where the kids forget their lines. It is the aftermath of a high school graduation party out at a farm in southwestern Wisconsin, that the adults never found out about. A peony is a bouncing, naive, exultant mess, but…
I respect the peony. I love it above all, for I am, more than anything, a peony. My people are peonies. We all know the dahlias. They made their money first. They are good at everything they do. They’re like Felix from The Odd Couple. Their shirts are always starched and ironed. The peony has dribbled all over its own jacket, but so did Grandpa. And we love Grandpa.
Honestly, what sort of parent lets their kids live like this? I am all for the children learning lessons and limitations while they're at home, but giving them a quart of Everclear and the keys to the car is a bad idea.
Dahlias win all the ribbons at the county fair. The peony has never heard of the county fair.
Many peonies are members of The 27 Club. Enjoy them while they’re here. They live fast and die young.
Peonies.
Better than a party trick: It takes an ant to open a peony.
Check back on October 6, 2026, this fall, when DAHLIAS take the stage.