I stole this wisteria flower yesterday evening. I was strolling back to my car in a side street of Williamstown: evening light, quiet and still. There were several houses with huge spreading wisteria vines and I decided they could spare me one.
This particular blossom was growing against a high picket fence. As I stepped forward to pluck it--just one--there was a sudden loud, deep barking from behind the fence. That dog was not willing to have his territory approached by a random flower-picker! I must say, I jumped back very quickly, but not before I had secured my prize. Those who know me best know that I don't cope well with sudden noises. It's as if my natural startle reflex is amplified by several orders of magnitude. My friend R thought it was hilarious and I let him laugh. I had my wisteria and was willing to pay for it. I carefully placed the flowers in a safe place on the car dashboard and drove home--it's a good half hour. As time went on I felt my eyes starting to itch, then my nose and lips . . . A sniffle or two alerted me to the fact that the beautiful scent of the wisteria was perhaps not so welcome to my immune system. I don't give up easily. I placed the blossom in water in a little vase on the kitchen window sill, took some antihistamines and went to bed.
This morning the beautiful scent and colours greeted me when I woke. So did the hayfever! I made myself a coffee; placed the flowers in a suitable position with just a bit of indirect light; set my camera to its macro settting and took a few shots. The clicking of the shutter was accompanied by frequent sniffles. Don't call me a slow learner--this was a case of being willing to suffer the consequences. Now I have a few nice shots and it's time for common sense to prevail. Wisteria blossoms and I are not destined for a long term relationship.