Some people blame their parents for self-confidence issues. In my case, I blame them for my need to identify every plant I see. My mother took a lot of horticulture classes when I was young, and both my parents are keen gardeners.
I've seen the pictures, pressed the flowers and smelled the crushed leaves so many times that naming a plant is like identifying a flavour.
Yet there's always one flower I always fail to name, despite the number of times my mother has pointed it out to me. It's the flower you see here. Blue, neat, and brilliantly resilient against the harsh heat of a Western Australian summer.
While walking home today, I spotted these blue blooms growing by an old, splintered fence.
"Ah," I thought. "Calendula."
Calendula! Finally, without even trying, the name dropped into my mind without even the slightest pause. How could I ever have forgotten the name of this flower in the past? It was just such a... blue word! Everything about it sounded blue. And it was such a lovely name, it suited the flower perfectly. Finally!
Wikipedia was not so convinced.
Turns out that little plant is called a plumbago. Which to me sounds like something you would see a physiotherapist about.