June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Chums Corner 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!

The Amaryllis does not enter a room. It arrives. Like a trumpet fanfare in a silent hall, like a sudden streak of crimson across a gray sky, it announces itself with a kind of botanical audacity that makes other flowers seem like wallflowers at the dance. Each bloom is a study in maximalism—petals splayed wide, veins pulsing with pigment, stems stretching toward the ceiling as if trying to escape the vase altogether. These are not subtle flowers. They are divas. They are showstoppers. They are the floral equivalent of a standing ovation.

What makes them extraordinary isn’t just their size—though God, the size. A single Amaryllis bloom can span six inches, eight, even more, its petals so improbably large they seem like they should topple the stem beneath them. But they don’t. The stalk, thick and muscular, hoists them skyward with the confidence of a weightlifter. This structural defiance is part of the magic. Most big blooms droop. Amaryllises ascend.

Then there’s the color. The classics—candy-apple red, snowdrift white—are bold enough to stop traffic. But modern hybrids have pushed the spectrum into hallucinatory territory. Striped ones look like they’ve been hand-painted by a meticulous artist. Ones with ruffled edges resemble ballgowns frozen mid-twirl. There are varieties so deep purple they’re almost black, others so pale pink they glow under artificial light. In a floral arrangement, they don’t blend. They dominate. A single stem in a sparse minimalist vase becomes a statement piece. A cluster of them in a grand centerpiece feels like an event.

And the drama doesn’t stop at appearance. Amaryllises unfold in real time, their blooms cracking open with the slow-motion spectacle of a time-lapse film. What starts as a tight, spear-like bud transforms over days into a riot of petals, each stage more photogenic than the last. This theatricality makes them perfect for people who crave anticipation, who want to witness beauty in motion rather than receive it fully formed.

Their staying power is another marvel. While lesser flowers wither within days, an Amaryllis lingers, its blooms defiantly perky for a week, sometimes two. Even as cut flowers, they possess a stubborn vitality, as if unaware they’ve been severed from their roots. This endurance makes them ideal for holidays, for parties, for any occasion where you need a floral guest who won’t bail early.

But perhaps their greatest trick is their versatility. Pair them with evergreen branches for wintry elegance. Tuck them among wildflowers for a garden-party exuberance. Let them stand alone—just one stem, one bloom—for a moment of pure, uncluttered drama. They adapt without compromising, elevate without overshadowing.

To call them mere flowers feels insufficient. They are experiences. They are exclamation points in a world full of semicolons. In a time when so much feels fleeting, the Amaryllis is a reminder that some things—grandeur, boldness, the sheer joy of unfurling—are worth waiting for.

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

If you’ve ever driven north on US-31 toward Traverse City, Michigan, you’ve seen the sign for Chums Corner. It’s easy to miss. The green rectangle floats past your passenger window like a buoy in the rearview, its letters receding into the blur of pines and billboards. But slow down. Exit. The road bends, and suddenly you’re in a place that feels both nowhere and everywhere, a pocket of unincorporated America where the word community isn’t an abstraction but a living thing, a verb performed daily by people who know the weight of snow and the sweetness of a sun-warmed cherry.

Chums Corner is not a postcard. It’s a cluster of low-slung buildings that seem both provisional and permanent, their facades weathered but unbent. A general store sells bait and handmade quilts. A diner serves pie so thick with local fruit the crust groans. The traffic light, singular, patient, blinks red for all directions, as if to say, Stay awhile. Look around. What you notice first is the absence of neon, the presence of hand-painted signs. What you notice next is the way people here move: unhurried but purposeful, waving to drivers they recognize, pausing mid-task to ask about your drive.

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

The land itself is a character. To the west, the Boardman River twists like a sly grin, its banks crowded with maple and oak. Farmers tend orchards where cherries ripen in summer, their branches sagging under the weight of fruit so red it hums. In autumn, the air smells of woodsmoke and cinnamon. Children ride bikes along gravel roads, kicking up dust that hangs in the light like gold glitter. There’s a baseball field where teenagers play pickup games under floodlights, their laughter carrying across the valley.

What Chums Corner lacks in size it compensates with texture. The library operates out of a converted barn, its shelves curated by a woman who remembers every book you borrowed in sixth grade. The hardware store doubles as an informal town hall, where debates over zoning laws unfold beside displays of socket wrenches. At the crossroads, a mural spans the side of a feed store, depicting the history of the region in primary colors: Native tribes, settlers, orchards, storms. The artist included a blank panel at the end. “For whatever comes next,” she said.

This is a place where the word neighbor functions as both noun and verb. When a barn collapsed under last winter’s snow, three generations showed up at dawn with thermoses and tool belts. When the school needed a new swing set, the fire department hosted a pancake breakfast. Nobody made a speech. Nobody posed for photos. They just flipped flapjacks and passed the syrup, talking about the weather and the wolves howling at the edge of town.

There’s a quiet pride here, a resilience forged by frost heaves and hard work. But also joy, the kind that blooms in unplanned moments. A pickup truck parked at the edge of a field, its bed full of kids watching meteors streak across the August sky. An old man teaching his granddaughter to skip stones at Oviatt Lake. The way the entire town seems to exhale when the first fireflies rise from the tall grass in June.

You won’t find Chums Corner on most maps. It’s a dot, a waypoint, a comma in the narrative of northern Michigan. But spend an afternoon here, and you start to see the magic of a place that measures itself not in square miles or souvenir shops but in shared rhythms. The light turns green. You drive on, toward destinations more famous, more scenic. But something lingers, the certainty that in a world obsessed with scale, there’s grace in staying small, in holding fast to the humble art of being here, together.