June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Big Spring is the Light and Lovely Bouquet

Introducing the Light and Lovely Bouquet, a floral arrangement that will brighten up any space with its delicate beauty. This charming bouquet, available at Bloom Central, exudes a sense of freshness and joy that will make you smile from ear to ear.

The Light and Lovely Bouquet features an enchanting combination of yellow daisies, orange Peruvian Lilies, lavender matsumoto asters, orange carnations and red mini carnations. These lovely blooms are carefully arranged in a clear glass vase with a touch of greenery for added elegance.

This delightful floral bouquet is perfect for all occasions be it welcoming a new baby into the world or expressing heartfelt gratitude to someone special. The simplicity and pops of color make this arrangement suitable for anyone who appreciates beauty in its purest form.

What is truly remarkable about the Light and Lovely Bouquet is how effortlessly it brings warmth into any room. It adds just the right amount of charm without overwhelming the senses.

The Light and Lovely Bouquet also comes arranged beautifully in a clear glass vase tied with a lime green ribbon at the neck - making it an ideal gift option when you want to convey your love or appreciation.

Another wonderful aspect worth mentioning is how long-lasting these blooms can be if properly cared for. With regular watering and trimming stems every few days along with fresh water changes every other day; this bouquet can continue bringing cheerfulness for up to two weeks.

There is simply no denying the sheer loveliness radiating from within this exquisite floral arrangement offered by the Light and Lovely Bouquet. The gentle colors combined with thoughtful design make it an absolute must-have addition to any home or a delightful gift to brighten someone's day. Order yours today and experience the joy it brings firsthand.

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

Big Spring, Ohio, sits where the horizon flattens into something like a held breath, a pause in the midwestern rush toward elsewhere. The town’s name refers not to ambition but to the cold, clear upwelling at its center, a spring wide enough to suggest the earth itself might have a throat and this is where it sings. Drive through on Route 30 at the wrong speed and you’ll miss it, which is the point. Big Spring’s residents, 1,872 at last count, though ask anyone at the Thursday farmers’ market and they’ll say “around two thousand, depending”, treat the place less as a dot on a map than a shared heirloom, polished by repetition. Mornings here smell of cut grass and diesel, of bakery yeast and the faint tang of iron from the water that still feeds the old fountain in Courthouse Square. The fountain’s basin is green with age, but the spray arcs clean, and kids lean over the edge to let mist freckle their faces while their parents trade gossip about soybean prices.

The spring itself is now encased in a limestone wellhouse built by the WPA, its door always unlocked. Inside, the air tastes like the inside of a clay jug. Visitors can peer into a pool so still it seems solid until a leaf drifts in, proving the water’s alive, moving somewhere beneath. Local lore claims that in 1913, a traveling salesman tried to bottle the spring’s “curative” essence, but the town voted unanimously to chase him out with rakes. Today, the water flows untreated into a culvert that feeds the community garden, where retirees grow tomatoes the size of softballs and argue amiably about whose compost is more righteous.

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

Downtown’s architecture is a time capsule of minor triumphs: a 1920s bank with a stained-glass ceiling, a defunct movie theater turned bookstore, a diner where the booths are patched with duct tape but the pie case glows like a shrine. The waitstaff know regulars by pancake preferences. High school athletes hold court in the corner, their laughter syncopated by the clatter of dishes. Outside, the streets are quiet but not dead. A barber waves to a mail carrier. A librarian walks a rescue greyhound past a mural of the town’s founding, which depicts a man in a coonskin cap looking pleasantly surprised at the discovery of water.

What’s compelling about Big Spring isn’t nostalgia but continuity. The same family has run the hardware store since 1948, its shelves dense with screws sorted into cigar boxes. The same teacher has directed the middle school play for 31 years, this year’s being Our Town, which everyone agrees is “a little on the nose.” At dusk, the softball fields hum with games where strikes are debated with Shakespearean intensity. The night sky here isn’t pristine, this is still Ohio, but on cloudless evenings, you can see enough stars to remember they’re infinite.

The spring’s persistence is the town’s quiet metaphor. Droughts come. Farms consolidate. Kids leave for college and return with toddlers, who’ll someday skateboard over the same cracks their parents did. It’s tempting to romanticize this as simplicity, but that’s a condescension. Life here is complex in its textures, its small negotiations, its ability to sustain itself without spectacle. Big Spring doesn’t beg you to stay. It doesn’t have to. The water keeps rising, regardless.