June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Saks is the Aqua Escape Bouquet

The Aqua Escape Bouquet from Bloom Central is a delightful floral masterpiece that will surely brighten up any room. With its vibrant colors and stunning design, it's no wonder why this bouquet is stealing hearts.

Bringing together brilliant orange gerbera daisies, orange spray roses, fragrant pink gilly flower, and lavender mini carnations, accented with fronds of Queen Anne's Lace and lush greens, this flower arrangement is a memory maker.

What makes this bouquet truly unique is its aquatic-inspired container. The aqua vase resembles gentle ripples on water, creating beachy, summertime feel any time of the year.

As you gaze upon the Aqua Escape Bouquet, you can't help but feel an instant sense of joy and serenity wash over you. Its cool tones combined with bursts of vibrant hues create a harmonious balance that instantly uplifts your spirits.

Not only does this bouquet look incredible; it also smells absolutely divine! The scent wafting through the air transports you to blooming gardens filled with fragrant blossoms. It's as if nature itself has been captured in these splendid flowers.

The Aqua Escape Bouquet makes for an ideal gift for all occasions whether it be birthdays, anniversaries or simply just because! Who wouldn't appreciate such beauty?

And speaking about convenience, did we mention how long-lasting these blooms are? You'll be amazed at their endurance as they continue to bring joy day after day. Simply change out the water regularly and trim any stems if needed; easy peasy lemon squeezy!

So go ahead and treat yourself or someone dear with the extraordinary Aqua Escape Bouquet from Bloom Central today! Let its charm captivate both young moms and experienced ones alike. This stunning arrangement, with its soothing vibes and sweet scent, is sure to make any day a little brighter!

Celosias look like something that shouldn’t exist in nature. Like a botanist with an overactive imagination sketched them out in a fever dream and then somehow willed them into reality. They are brain-like, coral-like, fire-like ... velvet turned into a flower. And when you see them in an arrangement, they do not sit quietly in the background, blending in, behaving. They command attention. They change the whole energy of the thing.

This is because Celosias, unlike so many other flowers that are content to be soft and wispy and romantic, are structured. They have presence. The cockscomb variety—the one that looks like a brain, a perfectly sculpted ruffle—stands there like a tiny sculpture, refusing to be ignored. The plume variety, all feathery and flame-like, adds height, drama, movement. And the wheat variety, long and slender and texturally complex, somehow manages to be both wild and elegant at the same time.

But it’s not just the shape that makes them unique. It’s the texture. You touch a Celosia, and it doesn’t feel like a flower. It feels like fabric, like velvet, like something you want to run your fingers over again just to confirm that yes, it really does feel that way. In an arrangement, this does something interesting. Flowers tend to be either soft and delicate or crisp and structured. Celosias are both. They create contrast. They add depth. They make the whole thing feel richer, more layered, more intentional.

And then, of course, there’s the color. Celosias do not come in polite pastels. They are not interested in subtlety. They show up in neon pinks, electric oranges, deep magentas, fire-engine reds. They look saturated, like someone turned the volume all the way up. And when you put them next to something lighter, something airier—Queen Anne’s lace, maybe, or dusty miller, or even a simple white rose—they create this insane vibrancy, this play of light and dark, bold and soft, grounded and ethereal.

Another thing about Celosias: they last. A lot of flowers have a short vase life, a few days of glory before they start wilting, fading, giving in. Not Celosias. They hold their shape, their color, their texture, as if refusing to acknowledge the whole concept of decay. Even when they dry out, they don’t wither into something sad and brittle. They stay beautiful, just in a different way.

If you’re someone who likes their flower arrangements to look traditional, predictable, classic, Celosias might be too much. They bring an energy, an intensity, a kind of visual electricity that doesn’t always play by the usual rules. But if you like contrast, if you like texture, if you want to build something that makes people stop and look twice, Celosias are exactly what you need. They are flowers that refuse to disappear into the background. They are, quite simply, unforgettable.

Are looking for a Saks florist because you are not local to the area? If so, here is a brief travelogue of what Saks has to offer. Who knows, perhaps you'll be intrigued enough to come visit soon, partake in some of the fun activities Saks has to offer and deliver flowers to your loved one in person!

The town of Saks, Alabama, sits unassumingly in the foothills of the Appalachians, a place where the word “town” feels both too grand and too small. To call it a suburb of Anniston would be to misunderstand its pulse. Saks operates on a rhythm older than interstates, a tempo set by cicadas thrumming in loblolly pines, school buses sighing at crossroads, and the creak of porch swings carrying conversations that have looped for generations. The air smells of cut grass and distant rain, and the sky here does not merely exist, it performs, swathing itself in peach-streaked sunsets that make even the cashier at the Piggly Wiggly pause mid-swipe to say, “Would you look at that?”

Drive down Saks Road on a Saturday morning and you’ll see a parade of the unspectacular: kids peddling lemonade in Dixie cups, their table wobbling on a heat-cracked driveway. Fathers in grass-stained sneakers push mowers in zigzags, trails of clippings clinging to their ankles. The Saks High School football field, even in offseason, hums with the echoes of Friday nights, teenagers tossing a ball in the shadow of a scoreboard that has chronicled decades of triumphs and heartbreaks the world will never note. There’s a purity to these rituals, an unselfconsciousness that resists the American urge to monetize or optimize.

Same day service available. Order your Saks floral delivery and surprise someone today!

The Saks Community Center, a brick building with windows fogged by decades of potlucks and quilting circles, hosts events where attendance matters less than presence. At a recent bake sale, a woman named Mrs. Latham handed a caramel cake to a newcomer and said, “Honey, you’re gonna need two plates for that,” and the statement was both a warning and a welcome. Neighbors here know the difference between privacy and isolation. They wave at passing cars not out of obligation but habit, a reflex forged by the understanding that belonging is a verb.

In the afternoons, sunlight slants through oaks onto front yards where plastic dinosaurs and Barbies stand guard. Children invent games with rules that change by the hour, their laughter carrying across chain-link fences. The local library, a modest annex with shelves bowing under Western paperbacks and YA novels, runs a summer reading program where stickers are currency and the librarian, Ms. Carol, remembers every kid’s name and genre preference. “Magic Tree House again, Ethan?” she’ll say, sliding the book across the desk like a conspirator passing contraband.

There’s a resilience here, quiet but unyielding. When storms tear through, downing power lines or peeling shingles, you’ll find strangers with chainsaws clearing roads before the county trucks arrive. The Saks Volunteer Fire Department barbecues fundraisers where the sauce is sweet and the gratitude quieter, folded into $10 bills pressed into donation jars. Loss is met with casseroles, joy with pound cake. The math is simple: no one is fed alone.

To outsiders, Saks might blur into the Southern landscape, another dot on the map between Atlanta and Birmingham. But spend an hour at the Saks Pharmacy, where Mr. Patel has filled prescriptions and jokes for 22 years, or watch the way the postmaster, Denise, tucks fragile packages under her arm like newborns, and you start to see it, the invisible threads knitting the place together. It’s a town that thrives not in spite of its size but because of it, where the word “community” isn’t an abstraction but a lived syntax, a way of moving through the world.

As evening falls, the streets empty into homes where screen doors slam and televisions murmur the news. Fireflies rise like sparks from the earth, and somewhere, a pickup truck idles at a stop sign, its driver squinting at the horizon. He’s in no hurry. The road will still be there, and the night is soft, and tomorrow will come with the same unremarkable grace as yesterday. This is Saks: a place that knows its worth without needing to shout it. A place that, in its smallness, contains multitudes.