April 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for April in Ross is the Birthday Smiles Floral Cake

The Birthday Smiles Floral Cake floral arrangement from Bloom Central is sure to bring joy and happiness on any special occasion. This charming creation is like a sweet treat for the eyes.

The arrangement itself resembles a delectable cake - but not just any cake! It's a whimsical floral interpretation that captures all the fun and excitement of blowing out candles on a birthday cake. The round shape adds an element of surprise and intrigue.

Gorgeous blooms are artfully arranged to resemble layers upon layers of frosting. Each flower has been hand-selected for its beauty and freshness, ensuring the Birthday Smiles Floral Cake arrangement will last long after the celebration ends. From the collection of bright sunflowers, yellow button pompons, white daisy pompons and white carnations, every petal contributes to this stunning masterpiece.

And oh my goodness, those adorable little candles! They add such a playful touch to the overall design. These miniature wonders truly make you feel as if you're about to sing Happy Birthday surrounded by loved ones.

But let's not forget about fragrance because what is better than a bouquet that smells as amazing as it looks? As soon as you approach this captivating creation, your senses are greeted with an enchanting aroma that fills the room with pure delight.

This lovely floral cake makes for an ideal centerpiece at any birthday party. The simple elegance of this floral arrangement creates an inviting ambiance that encourages laughter and good times among friends and family alike. Plus, it pairs perfectly with both formal gatherings or more relaxed affairs - versatility at its finest.

Bloom Central has truly outdone themselves with their Birthday Smiles Floral Cake floral arrangement; it encapsulates everything there is to love about birthdays - joyfulness, beauty and togetherness. A delightful reminder that life is meant to be celebrated and every day can feel like a special occasion with the right touch of floral magic.

So go ahead, indulge in this sweet treat for the eyes because nothing brings more smiles on a birthday than this stunning floral creation from Bloom Central.

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

Ross, Illinois, sits in the American Midwest like a single unassuming puzzle piece snugged into the vast flatness between the Rock River and the hum of I-88. To call it a town feels almost too grand. It’s more a quiet agreement among neighbors, a pact to keep sidewalks swept and lawns trim, to wave at passing cars whether you recognize the driver or not. Drive through at dusk, and the place seems to exhale. Porch lights flicker on. Children pedal bikes in widening circles until the streets blur into shadow. The air smells of cut grass and distant rain, and the whole scene hums with a kind of unspoken ordinariness that, if you squint, feels almost sacred.

The town’s heart, if something this small can be said to have a heart, beats in its library. A squat brick building with perpetually squeaky doors, the Ross Public Library holds fewer books than a suburban Barnes & Noble but pulses with a warmth no corporate franchise could mimic. Here, Mrs. Ellen Gunderson, head librarian since the Reagan administration, still stamps due dates by hand and remembers every child’s name. Teens slouch at wooden tables, pretending to study while sneaking glances at their phones. Retirees pore over newspapers, rustling pages like a kind of meditation. The space is less about books than about the gentle insistence that some things don’t need to change to matter.

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

Downtown Ross spans three blocks, and you can walk its length in five minutes if you don’t stop. But you’ll stop. There’s Hensen’s Hardware, where the floorboards creak symphonies and the owner, Bud, will spend 20 minutes helping you find the right hinge screw. Next door, the Ross Diner serves pancakes so fluffy they seem to defy physics, and waitress Deb Callahan calls everyone “hon” without a trace of irony. The post office doubles as a gossip hub, where Mrs. Lydia Porter updates the community bulletin board with a rigor that would shame a newsroom. These are not relics. They’re alive, insistent, proof that efficiency isn’t the only measure of a life well lived.

What Ross lacks in size it repays in sky. The horizon here stretches uninterrupted, a boundless canvas for sunrises that ignite the fields and sunsets that melt into the Mississippi’s distant curve. Seasons don’t whisper; they announce. Autumn blazes through maples along Elm Street. Winter muffles the world in snow so pure it hurts to look at. Spring arrives as a riot of lilacs and dandelions, and summer lingers like a guest who refuses to leave, all cicadas and fireflies and the wet thwack of screen doors. People here still plant gardens, not for Instagram but for the primal joy of eating a tomato still warm from the vine.

You could call Ross “quaint,” but that misses the point. Quaintness implies performance, a nod to nostalgia. Ross isn’t nostalgic. It’s present. It’s kids selling lemonade at a folding table, earnest and sticky-fingered, because they haven’t yet learned to be cynical. It’s the high school football team, terrible by any objective standard, cheered by crowds who couldn’t care less about touchdowns. It’s the way everyone shows up when someone’s sick, filling kitchens with casseroles that all taste vaguely of cream of mushroom soup. This isn’t a place frozen in time. It’s a place that understands time, that bends it, stretches it, lets it pool like honey.

To love Ross requires no grand gestures. You love it by slowing down. By watching the way light slants through the feed mill’s dust at golden hour. By trusting that the cashier at the Gas ’n Go really does want to hear about your niece’s dance recital. In an era of relentless optimization, Ross dares to insist that some inefficiencies are vital, that a town can be both small and complete, that connection isn’t a metric but a habit, practiced daily, in line at the bank or outside the Methodist church on Sundays. It feels, somehow, like a quiet rebellion. Or maybe just a reminder: Here, in this flyover speck, life isn’t something you curate. It’s something you live, one unextraordinary, magnificent day at a time.