"I like my gardens moist"

said young Stovielet on the phone the other night as he looked at pictures from our parents' recent visit to Spookytown. I took them to the aquatic gardens that I had briefly visited on Saturday, and spent some time documenting the loveliness. These gardens are part original marshland (much of Spookytown was originally marshland, which makes it completely unsurprising that I'm being attacked by malevolent mosquitoes right now as I'm typing this, out on my balcony at dusk) and part human-made pools for the purposes of floral aquaculture, specializing in waterlilies and lotus(es) ('lotus' - pluralizable?). For all that I have nearly bought super-tacky lotus-shaped lamps in various Chinatowns over the years (somehow always resisting), before this past weekend I had never seen a lotus in person. They're beautiful.
Those ones above are descended from plants germinated in 1951 from two seeds found in an ancient lake bed in Manchuria, seeds that were carbon dated as possibly 960 years old. That's pretty old.

The new-school, more brightly colored lotuses get all pinkly glowy in the sunlight, really highlighting their resemblance to lamps.
I find the lotus to be aesthetically appealing in all its phases, from bud to seed pod, and en masse as well as individually.
Although perhaps an impressionist cliche (albeit not their fault), regular-type waterlilies are also beautiful.
Especially when they are supporting froggies, as they were clearly designed to do.
As it turns out, I am also pro tiger lily.
And tree bark.
I guess, to sum up, I'm kind of down with wetlands flora.