Back when people were really crazing over the Denver International Airport murals on other forums, if you folks recall that whole thing, I stumbled across a website with a title similar to this post, The Secret Language of Flowers.

It was an enormous help in analyzing those strange paintings that offended so many passersby and critics... eek.

But in terms of what our ancestors knew about human nature, the personality, the soul and its signs, I must say I am blown away by the subtle association of certain flowers with many lost pieces of wisdom.

Flowers were one of the signs American settlers and native Americans used to judge the seasons, time for planting, celebrating, naming their children, and countless other things that have been forgotten.

But you can't forget your own name, people say. They also like to say, what's in a name.

Is it possible that based on time of year and the mere flora that present at that time, and naming us in reflection of that, that at the advent of our births, our forebears were imparting the very most vital information and blessing they could?

I find it eerie that when the spring and winter violets are in bloom, those happen to be the two seasons per year that I become the most depressed about not having more children.

My great grandmother was named Violet. Along with two of the others. They gave me my middle name because of that, but it was only part of the reason.

My great grandmother was very closely related to some high ranking Cherokee indians and took enormous pride and comfort in her flower gardens, which were separate from the vegetable garden.

That lady probably learned more in that quarter acre than I've learned in my entire life....