June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Bithlo is the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens

Introducing the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens floral arrangement! Blooming with bright colors to boldly express your every emotion, this exquisite flower bouquet is set to celebrate. Hot pink roses, purple Peruvian Lilies, lavender mini carnations, green hypericum berries, lily grass blades, and lush greens are brought together to create an incredible flower arrangement.

The flowers are artfully arranged in a clear glass cube vase, allowing their natural beauty to shine through. The lucky recipient will feel like you have just picked the flowers yourself from a beautiful garden!

Whether you're celebrating an anniversary, sending get well wishes or simply saying 'I love you', the Be Bold Bouquet is always appropriate. This floral selection has timeless appeal and will be cherished by anyone who is lucky enough to receive it.

Better Homes and Gardens has truly outdone themselves with this incredible creation. Their attention to detail shines through in every petal and leaf - creating an arrangement that not only looks stunning but also feels incredibly luxurious.

If you're looking for a captivating floral arrangement that brings joy wherever it goes, the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens is the perfect choice. The stunning colors, long-lasting blooms, delightful fragrance and affordable price make it a true winner in every way. Get ready to add a touch of boldness and beauty to someone's life - you won't regret it!

Amaranthus does not behave like other flowers. It does not sit politely in a vase, standing upright, nodding gently in the direction of the other blooms. It spills. It drapes. It cascades downward in long, trailing tendrils that look more like something from a dream than something you can actually buy from a florist. It refuses to stay contained, which is exactly why it makes an arrangement feel alive.

There are two main types, though “types” doesn’t really do justice to how completely different they look. There’s the upright kind, with tall, tapering spikes that look like velvet-coated wands reaching toward the sky, adding height and texture and this weirdly ancient, almost prehistoric energy to a bouquet. And then there’s the trailing kind, the showstopper, the one that flows downward in thick ropes, soft and heavy, like some extravagant, botanical waterfall. Both versions have a weight to them, a physical presence that makes the usual rules of flower arranging feel irrelevant.

And the color. Deep, rich, impossible-to-ignore shades of burgundy, magenta, crimson, chartreuse. They look saturated, velvety, intense, like something out of an old oil painting, the kind where fruit and flowers are arranged on a wooden table with dramatic lighting and tiny beads of condensation on the grapes. Stick Amaranthus in a bouquet, and suddenly it feels more expensive, more opulent, more like it should be displayed in a room with high ceilings and heavy curtains and a kind of hushed reverence.

But what really makes Amaranthus unique is movement. Arrangements are usually about balance, about placing each stem at just the right angle to create a structured, harmonious composition. Amaranthus doesn’t care about any of that. It moves. It droops. It reaches out past the edge of the vase and pulls everything around it into a kind of organic, unplanned-looking beauty. A bouquet without Amaranthus can feel static, frozen, too aware of its own perfection. Add those long, trailing ropes, and suddenly there’s drama. There’s tension. There’s this gorgeous contrast between what is contained and what refuses to be.

And it lasts. Long after more delicate flowers have wilted, after the petals have started falling and the leaves have lost their luster, Amaranthus holds on. It dries beautifully, keeping its shape and color for weeks, sometimes months, as if it has decided that decay is simply not an option. Which makes sense, considering its name literally means “unfading” in Greek.

Amaranthus is not for the timid. It does not blend in, does not behave, does not sit quietly in the background. It transforms an arrangement, giving it depth, movement, and this strange, undeniable sense of history, like it belongs to another era but somehow ended up here. Once you start using it, once you see what it does to a bouquet, how it changes the whole mood of a space, you will not go back. Some flowers are beautiful. Amaranthus is unforgettable.

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

Bithlo, Florida, sits like a quiet comma in the sprawling sentence of Central Florida’s development, a pause between the rush of Orlando’s theme parks and the cattle ranches that flatten into the horizon. The sun here does not so much rise as press down, a heavy hand on the back of your neck, while the scent of citrus groves and cut grass lingers in the humid air. To drive through Bithlo is to witness a place that refuses to dissolve into the state’s postcard mythology. The town’s single traffic light blinks amber, a metronome for pickup trucks and school buses, for teenagers on dirt bikes kicking up dust, for the slow sway of Spanish moss.

What strikes you first is the absence of pretense. Strip malls and trailer parks share space with oak canopies so thick they turn noon into twilight. A community center, its walls muraled with children’s handprints, hums with after-school laughter. Next door, a skate park built from donated concrete thrums with the clatter of wheels, a symphony of scrapes and shouts. The people here wear their histories on their skin, sun-cracked hands, tattooed sleeves, faces lined by labor and laughter. They wave at strangers like neighbors.

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

Bithlo’s story is not one of despair but of stubborn reinvention. Volunteers in sweat-stained shirts haul donated soil to transform vacant lots into community gardens. A retired Navy vet teaches kids to grow okra and collards in raised beds, their roots tangling in the sandy earth. At the local farmers’ market, a woman sells jars of honey from backyard hives, the bees drunk on orange blossoms. Down the road, a nonprofit solar farm glints in the sun, its panels angled skyward as if in prayer, slashing power bills for families who once chose between AC and groceries.

The town’s resilience is etched into its geography. The Econlockhatchee River curls around it like a protective arm, its tea-colored waters hosting kayakers and old men fishing for bass. Horses graze in pastures dotted with fireweed, their tails flicking at flies. Even the roadside stands, plywood tables piled with watermelons, boiled peanuts, bougainvillea cuttings, feel less like commerce than conversation. You don’t just buy a lemon; you hear about the seller’s grandkid’s soccer game.

Critics might fixate on what Bithlo lacks, the chain stores, the manicured parks, the veneer of prosperity. But absence here is a kind of freedom. Without the weight of expectation, the town invents itself daily. A church parking lot doubles as a Saturday flea market, where barbers give free haircuts next to tables of tamales. A retired mechanic tutors teens in a donated trailer, its walls papered with algebra equations and college acceptance letters. At dusk, families gather on porches, swapping stories as cicadas scream from the trees.

There’s a particular magic in how Bithlo refuses invisibility. Its name, derived from a Seminole phrase meaning “canoe launching place,” hints at deeper currents. This is a town where the past isn’t polished for tourists but lived in, where the future feels less like a threat than a shared project. You see it in the way a teenager on a skateboard nods at a passing cop, in the way neighbors rally when a trailer fire leaves a family homeless, in the way the night sky, unburdened by city lights, explodes with stars.

To visit Bithlo is to witness a paradox: a place that thrives not by escaping its struggles but by weaving them into its identity. The air smells of rain and diesel, of blooming jasmine and freshly turned earth. It’s a reminder that progress isn’t always a straight line. Sometimes it’s a sunflower breaking through cracked pavement, reaching for the light.