June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Kittery is the All Things Bright Bouquet

The All Things Bright Bouquet from Bloom Central is just perfect for brightening up any space with its lavender roses. Typically this arrangement is selected to convey sympathy but it really is perfect for anyone that needs a little boost.

One cannot help but feel uplifted by the charm of these lovely blooms. Each flower has been carefully selected to complement one another, resulting in a beautiful harmonious blend.

Not only does this bouquet look amazing, it also smells heavenly. The sweet fragrance emanating from the fresh blossoms fills the room with an enchanting aroma that instantly soothes the senses.

What makes this arrangement even more special is how long-lasting it is. These flowers are hand selected and expertly arranged to ensure their longevity so they can be enjoyed for days on end. Plus, they come delivered in a stylish vase which adds an extra touch of elegance.

Astilbes, and let’s be clear about this from the outset, are not the main event in your garden, not the roses, not the peonies, not the headliners. They are not the kind of flower you stop and gape at like some kind of floral spectacle, no immediate gasp, no automatic reaching for the phone camera, no dramatic pause before launching into effusive praise. And yet ... and yet.

There is a quality to Astilbes, a kind of behind-the-scenes magic, that can take an ordinary arrangement and push it past the realm of “nice” and into something close to breathtaking, though not in an obvious way. They are the backing vocals that make the song, the shadow that defines the light. Without them, a bouquet might look fine, acceptable, even professional. With them, something shifts. They soften. They unify. They pull together discordant elements, bridge gaps, blur edges, and create a kind of cohesion that wasn’t there before.

The reason for this, if we’re getting specific, is texture. Unlike the rigid geometry of lilies or the dense pom-pom effect of dahlias, Astilbes bring something different to the table ... or to the vase, as it were. Their feathery plumes, those fine, delicate fronds, have a way of catching light, diffusing it, creating movement where there was once only static color blocks. Arrangements without Astilbes can feel heavy, solid, like they are only aware of their own weight. But throw in a few stems of these airy, ethereal blooms, and suddenly there’s a sense of motion, a kind of visual breath. It’s the difference between a painting that’s flat and one that has depth.

And it’s not just their form that does this. Their color range—soft pinks, deep reds, ghostly whites, subtle lavenders—somehow manages to be both striking and subdued. They don’t shout. They don’t demand attention. But they shift the mood. A bouquet with Astilbes feels more natural, more organic, less forced. The word “effortless” gets thrown around a lot in flower arranging, usually by people who have spent far too much time and effort making something look that way. But with Astilbes, effortless isn’t an illusion. It just is.

Now, if you’ve never actually looked at an Astilbe up close, here’s something to do next time you find yourself near a properly stocked flower shop or, better yet, a garden with an eye for perennials. Lean in. Really look at the structure of those tiny, clustered flowers, each one a perfect minuscule star. They are fractal in their complexity. Each plume, made of many tiny stems, each stem made of tinier stems, each of those carrying its own impossibly delicate flowers. It’s a cascade effect, a waterfall of softness.

And if you are someone who enjoys the art of arranging flowers, who feels a deep satisfaction in placing stem after stem in a way that feels right rather than just technically correct, then Astilbes should be a staple in your arsenal. They are the unsung heroes of the bouquet, the quiet force that transforms good into something more. The kind of flower that, once you’ve started using them, you will wonder how you ever managed without.

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

Morning in Kittery, Maine, arrives as a slow-motion ballet of gulls and salt breeze, the kind of dawn that makes you wonder why anyone would ever choose to live inland. The Piscataqua River flexes its muscle here, a wide, muscular flow separating this southernmost sliver of Maine from New Hampshire’s jagged coast. Bridges arc overhead like steel parentheses, framing a town that seems both fiercely present and quietly haunted by the ghosts of shipwrights, lobstermen, colonial soldiers who once paced these shores. Walk the streets now and you feel it, the past isn’t dead here. It’s just napping.

The heart of Kittery beats in its harbor. Fishermen in oilskin jackets mend nets with fingers knotted as rope. Their boats bob in a syncopated rhythm, hulls creaking against docks that have held fast for centuries. Up the road, Fort McClary’s granite ruins crouch over the water, their hexagonal blocks worn smooth by nor’easters and the idle hands of tourists. On weekends, local reenactors in tricorn hats pretend to fire cannons at imaginary British ships. Children dart between the battlements, their laughter bouncing off stone. History here isn’t a textbook abstraction. It’s a living thing, as tangible as the kelp-strewn rocks below the lighthouse.

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

Commerce hums along Route 1, where outlet stores sprawl in a neon mosaic. Visitors flock for deals on designer socks, discounted cookware, maple syrup in glass bottles shaped like moose. But peel back the retail veneer and you’ll find something quieter, more resilient. A family-run bookstore where the owner recommends novels based on your astrological sign. A ceramics studio selling mugs glazed the exact blue of a November sea. A café where regulars argue about crossword clues over cardamom buns still warm from the oven. These places persist not in spite of Kittery’s tourist traffic but because of it, a delicate symbiosis between the ephemeral and the eternal.

Drive southeast, past clapboard houses with hydrangea bushes fat as Volkswagens, and the land tightens into a coastal gasp. Fort Foster Park juts into the Atlantic, its pebble beaches littered with driftwood sculptures left by some anonymous, whimsical tide. At low tide, tidal pools become microcosms: hermit crabs sidestepping anemones, periwinkles etching lazy trails in the sand. Kids crouch with nets, their parents staring at the horizon where freighters inch toward Portsmouth Harbor. The air smells of iodine and possibility.

What anchors Kittery isn’t its geography or its history but its people, a tribe of stubborn optimists who’ve mastered the art of bending time. They move with the unhurried certainty of those who know the sea will wait. Teenagers pilot dinghies to nowhere. Retired teachers tend rose gardens with military precision. Lobstermen swap jokes in a diner booth, their boots leaving gritty souvenirs on the linoleum. There’s a collective understanding here that life’s urgency is a myth. The real work happens in increments: painting a hull, knitting a scarf, stirring chowder in a pot that’s older than the state.

By dusk, the bridges glow like necklaces, their lights reflecting in the river’s black mirror. You could mistake this place for a postcard, a quaint artifact of New England charm. But stay awhile. Watch how the moon hangs over Pepperrell Cove, how the night collects in the pines. Kittery doesn’t beg to be admired. It simply exists, stubborn and unpretentious, a reminder that some places refuse to be smoothed into abstraction. They demand you feel them in your bones, the salt, the granite, the quiet pulse of a tide that never stops its work.