June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Lake Wales is the Happy Day Bouquet

The Happy Day Bouquet from Bloom Central is simply adorable. This charming floral arrangement is perfect for brightening up any room in your home. It features a delightful mix of vibrant flowers that will instantly bring joy to anyone who sees them.

With cheery colors and a playful design the Happy Day Bouquet is sure to put a smile on anyone's face. The bouquet includes a collection of yellow roses and luminous bupleurum plus white daisy pompon and green button pompon. These blooms are expertly arranged in a clear cylindrical glass vase with green foliage accents.

The size of this bouquet is just right - not too big and not too small. It is the perfect centerpiece for your dining table or coffee table, adding a pop of color without overwhelming the space. Plus, it's so easy to care for! Simply add water every few days and enjoy the beauty it brings to your home.

What makes this arrangement truly special is its versatility. Whether you're celebrating a birthday, anniversary, or simply want to brighten someone's day, the Happy Day Bouquet fits the bill perfectly. With timeless appeal makes this arrangement is suitable for recipients of all ages.

If you're looking for an affordable yet stunning gift option look no further than the Happy Day Bouquet from Bloom Central. As one of our lowest priced arrangements, the budget-friendly price allows you to spread happiness without breaking the bank.

Ordering this beautiful bouquet couldn't be easier either. With Bloom Central's convenient online ordering system you can have it delivered straight to your doorstep or directly to someone special in just a few clicks.

So why wait? Treat yourself or surprise someone dear with this delightful floral arrangement today! The Happy Day Bouquet will undoubtedly uplift spirits and create lasting memories filled with joy and love.

Dahlias don’t just bloom ... they detonate. Stems thick as broom handles hoist blooms that range from fist-sized to dinner-plate absurd, petals arranging themselves in geometric frenzies that mock the very idea of simplicity. A dahlia isn’t a flower. It’s a manifesto. A chromatic argument against restraint, a floral middle finger to minimalism. Other flowers whisper. Dahlias orate.

Their structure is a math problem. Pompon varieties spiral into perfect spheres, petals layered like satellite dishes tuning to alien frequencies. Cactus dahlias? They’re explosions frozen mid-burst, petals twisting like shrapnel caught in stop-motion. And the waterlily types—those serene frauds—float atop stems like lotus flowers that forgot they’re supposed to be humble. Pair them with wispy baby’s breath or feathery astilbe, and the dahlia becomes the sun, the bloom around which all else orbits.

Color here isn’t pigment. It’s velocity. A red dahlia isn’t red. It’s a scream, a brake light, a stop-sign dragged through the vase. The bi-colors—petals streaked with rival hues—aren’t gradients. They’re feuds. A magenta-and-white dahlia isn’t a flower. It’s a debate. Toss one into a pastel arrangement, and the whole thing catches fire, pinks and lavenders scrambling to keep up.

They’re shape-shifters with commitment issues. A single stem can host buds like clenched fists, half-opened blooms blushing with potential, and full flowers splaying with the abandon of a parade float. An arrangement with dahlias isn’t static. It’s a time-lapse. A serialized epic where every day rewrites the plot.

Longevity is their flex. While poppies dissolve overnight and peonies shed petals like nervous tics, dahlias dig in. Stems drink water like they’re stocking up for a drought, petals staying taut, colors refusing to fade. Forget them in a back office vase, and they’ll outlast your meetings, your coffee breaks, your entire LinkedIn feed refresh cycle.

Scent? They barely bother. A green whisper, a hint of earth. This isn’t a flaw. It’s a power move. Dahlias reject olfactory distraction. They’re here for your eyes, your camera roll, your retinas’ undivided surrender. Let roses handle romance. Dahlias deal in spectacle.

They’re egalitarian divas. A single dahlia in a mason jar is a haiku. A dozen in a galvanized trough? A Wagnerian opera. They democratize drama, offering theater at every price point. Pair them with sleek calla lilies, and the callas become straight men to the dahlias’ slapstick.

When they fade, they do it with swagger. Petals crisp at the edges, curling into origami versions of themselves, colors deepening to burnt siennas and ochres. Leave them be. A dried dahlia in a November window isn’t a corpse. It’s a relic. A fossilized fireworks display.

You could default to hydrangeas, to lilies, to flowers that play nice. But why? Dahlias refuse to be background. They’re the uninvited guest who ends up leading the conga line, the punchline that outlives the joke. An arrangement with dahlias isn’t decor. It’s a coup. Proof that sometimes, the most beautiful things ... are the ones that refuse to behave.

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

Lake Wales, Florida, sits atop a ridge of ancient sand dunes like a modest crown, its elevation a humble 298 feet above sea level, which in this pancake-flat state feels almost alpine. The town’s name derives not from the modest bodies of water nearby but from a surveyor’s error, a clerical ghost that lingers in the vowels. To approach Lake Wales is to enter a paradox: a place both deeply Southern and quietly transcendent, where Spanish moss hangs like tangled lace and the scent of citrus groves, sharp, sweet, chlorophyll-green, permeates the air even when the fruit is out of season. The sun here doesn’t just rise. It ascends, a blazing benediction over rows of orange trees and the quiet streets of a historic district where time seems to move at the speed of a bicycle.

At the heart of it all stands Bok Tower Gardens, a 250-acre sanctuary built by a Dutch immigrant who believed beauty could save the world. The tower itself is a carillonist’s dream, 205 feet of pink marble and coquina stone, singing hourly hymns via 60 bronze bells. Visitors tilt their heads back, squinting at the tower’s floral mosaics, while the bells’ vibrations ripple through their sternums. It’s a place where people speak in whispers, not because they’re told to, but because the landscape, the undulating greensward, the reflection pools mirroring the sky, compels a kind of reverence. Children chase butterflies through the trails, their laughter blending with the warble of red-winged blackbirds. Retirees sit on benches, peeling oranges, their fingers sticky with proof of the local economy.

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

Downtown Lake Wales operates on a different frequency. The Atlantic Coast Line Railroad Depot, now a museum, anchors a row of low-slung buildings housing cafes, antique shops, and a theater where high school students perform Rodgers and Hammerstein with the earnestness of Broadway understudies. The sidewalks are wide enough for neighbors to pause mid-stride and discuss the weather, or the upcoming Mardi Gras parade, or the merits of mulching versus direct planting. At the weekly farmers’ market, vendors sell honey harvested from bees that pollinate the surrounding groves. A man in a straw hat demonstrates how to carve a duck decoy from cypress wood, the curls falling to his feet like wooden snow.

Then there’s Spook Hill, a gravity hill where cars appear to roll uphill, defying physics. Locals will tell you the phenomenon is the work of a Native American chief and a giant gator, their eternal tug-of-war warping the land’s logic. Teenagers test it nightly, placing their Fords in neutral and squealing as the vehicles drift backward, or is it forward?, under the stars. The effect is both thrilling and comforting, a reminder that mystery survives even in an age of explainable algorithms.

What binds Lake Wales together isn’t just geography or history but a quality harder to name. Maybe it’s the light, which turns the lakes into sheets of hammered bronze at dusk. Maybe it’s the way the community college’s ceramics class partners with downtown businesses to create clay street signs, each glazed with a shade of sunset. Or the fact that the public library hosts a yearly “human book” event, where residents volunteer as living memoirs, their stories loaned out to anyone willing to listen.

In a world of fractal distractions, Lake Wales moves to a simpler rhythm. It’s a town where fireflies still outnumber streetlights, where the past isn’t preserved behind glass but woven into the daily fabric, a handshake between old Florida and the pulse of now. You leave wondering if it’s the place that’s special or the way it invites you to pay attention, to notice the bell’s echo, the orange’s tang, the improbable slope of a road that shouldn’t bend but does.