June 1, 2025

The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for June in Arbor Vitae is the A Splendid Day Bouquet

Introducing A Splendid Day Bouquet, a delightful floral arrangement that is sure to brighten any room! This gorgeous bouquet will make your heart skip a beat with its vibrant colors and whimsical charm.

Featuring an assortment of stunning blooms in cheerful shades of pink, purple, and green, this bouquet captures the essence of happiness in every petal. The combination of roses and asters creates a lovely variety that adds depth and visual interest.

With its simple yet elegant design, this bouquet can effortlessly enhance any space it graces. Whether displayed on a dining table or placed on a bedside stand as a sweet surprise for someone special, it brings instant joy wherever it goes.

One cannot help but admire the delicate balance between different hues within this bouquet. Soft lavender blend seamlessly with radiant purples - truly reminiscent of springtime bliss!

The sizeable blossoms are complemented perfectly by lush green foliage which serves as an exquisite backdrop for these stunning flowers. But what sets A Splendid Day Bouquet apart from others? Its ability to exude warmth right when you need it most! Imagine coming home after a long day to find this enchanting masterpiece waiting for you, instantly transforming the recipient's mood into one filled with tranquility.

Not only does each bloom boast incredible beauty but their intoxicating fragrance fills the air around them. This magical creation embodies the essence of happiness and radiates positive energy. It is a constant reminder that life should be celebrated, every single day!

The Splendid Day Bouquet from Bloom Central is simply magnificent! Its vibrant colors, stunning variety of blooms, and delightful fragrance make it an absolute joy to behold. Whether you're treating yourself or surprising someone special, this bouquet will undoubtedly bring smiles and brighten any day!

Consider the heliconia ... that tropical anarchist of the floral world, its blooms less flowers than avant-garde sculptures forged in some botanical fever dream. Picture a flower that didn’t so much evolve as erupt—bracts like lobster claws dipped in molten wax, petals jutting at angles geometry textbooks would call “impossible,” stems thick enough to double as curtain rods. You’ve seen them in hotel lobbies maybe, or dripping from jungle canopies, their neon hues and architectural swagger making orchids look prissy, birds of paradise seem derivative. Snip one stalk and suddenly your dining table becomes a stage ... the heliconia isn’t decor. It’s theater.

What makes heliconias revolutionary isn’t their size—though let’s pause here to note that some varieties tower at six feet—but their refusal to play by floral rules. These aren’t delicate blossoms begging for admiration. They’re ecosystems. Each waxy bract cradles tiny true flowers like secrets, offering nectar to hummingbirds while daring you to look closer. Their colors? Imagine a sunset got into a fistfight with a rainbow. Reds that glow like stoplights. Yellows so electric they hum. Pinks that make bubblegum look muted. Pair them with palm fronds and you’ve built a jungle. Add them to a vase of anthuriums and the anthuriums become backup dancers.

Their structure defies logic. The ‘Lobster Claw’ variety curls like a crustacean’s pincer frozen mid-snap. The ‘Parrot’s Beak’ arcs skyward as if trying to escape its own stem. The ‘Golden Torch’ stands rigid, a gilded sceptre for some floral monarch. Each variety isn’t just a flower but a conversation—about boldness, about form, about why we ever settled for roses. And the leaves ... oh, the leaves. Broad, banana-like plates that shimmer with rainwater long after storms pass, their veins mapping some ancient botanical code.

Here’s the kicker: heliconias are marathoners in a world of sprinters. While hibiscus blooms last a day and peonies sulk after three, heliconias persist for weeks, their waxy bracts refusing to wilt even as the rest of your arrangement turns to compost. This isn’t longevity. It’s stubbornness. A middle finger to entropy. Leave one in a vase and it’ll outlast your interest, becoming a fixture, a roommate, a pet that doesn’t need feeding.

Their cultural resume reads like an adventurer’s passport. Native to Central and South America but adopted by Hawaii as a state symbol. Named after Mount Helicon, home of the Greek muses—a fitting nod to their mythic presence. In arrangements, they’re shape-shifters. Lean one against a wall and it’s modern art. Cluster five in a ceramic urn and you’ve summoned a rainforest. Float a single bract in a shallow bowl and your mantel becomes a Zen koan.

Care for them like you’d handle a flamboyant aunt—give them space, don’t crowd them, and never, ever put them in a narrow vase. Their stems thirst like marathoners. Recut them underwater to keep the water highway flowing. Strip lower leaves to avoid swampiness. Do this, and they’ll reward you by lasting so long you’ll forget they’re cut ... until guests arrive and ask, breathlessly, What are those?

The magic of heliconias lies in their transformative power. Drop one into a bouquet of carnations and the carnations stiffen, suddenly aware they’re extras in a blockbuster. Pair them with proteas and the arrangement becomes a dialogue between titans. Even alone, in a too-tall vase, they command attention like a soloist hitting a high C. They’re not flowers. They’re statements. Exclamation points with roots.

Here’s the thing: heliconias make timidity obsolete. They don’t whisper. They declaim. They don’t complement. They dominate. And yet ... their boldness feels generous, like they’re showing other flowers how to be brave. Next time you see them—strapped to a florist’s truck maybe, or sweating in a greenhouse—grab a stem. Take it home. Let it lean, slouch, erupt in your foyer. Days later, when everything else has faded, your heliconia will still be there, still glowing, still reminding you that nature doesn’t do demure. It does spectacular.

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

To enter Arbor Vitae, Wisconsin, is to step into a world where the air itself seems to hum with the quiet insistence of life being lived at the speed of growing things. The town sits nestled in Vilas County like a well-kept secret, a place where pine forests stretch skyward with a kind of patient grandeur, and the lakes, oh, the lakes, hold the sort of stillness that makes you wonder if water, too, can dream. Here, the sun filters through birch leaves in speckled patterns that shift imperceptibly, as though time itself has agreed to tread lightly. Locals move through their days with a rhythm that feels both deliberate and effortless, their boots crunching gravel on backroads, their hands waving from pickup trucks as if to say, I see you, a benediction disguised as habit.

The heart of Arbor Vitae beats in its general store, a creaky-floored relic where the coffee pot never empties and the clerk knows your order before you do. Shelves sag under the weight of bait buckets and handmade quilts, while the bulletin board bristles with index cards advertising fiddle lessons and free kittens. A man in Carhartt overalls leans against the counter, debating the merits of maple syrup versus honey in venison marinade, and you realize this is not small talk but a kind of oral history, passed down through generations like recipes for survival. Outside, children pedal bikes with streamers whirring from handlebars, their laughter echoing off the feed mill’s corrugated walls. You half-expect Norman Rockwell to materialize, sketchpad in hand, then realize he’d find the scene too perfectly itself to need embellishment.

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

Summer here is a green riot, a symphony of loon calls and cicadas that crescendos at dusk. The lake glows like liquid mercury, kayaks slicing its surface as families drift toward horizons fringed with tamarack. At the farmers’ market, retirees hawk rhubarb pies and fist-sized tomatoes, their faces etched with lines that map decades of squinting into sunlit fields. A teenage girl sells wildflower bouquets tied with twine, each arrangement a transient masterpiece she’ll dismiss as “just weeds.” You buy one because its fragility moves you, and because her shrug suggests she knows something you don’t, that beauty persists precisely where we forget to look for it.

Winter transforms the town into a snow globe shaken by some benevolent giant. Smoke curls from chimneys as cross-country skishers glide through forests hushed under blankets of white. At the community center, elders teach newcomers how to lace snowshoes, their instructions punctuated by stories of blizzards past, the kind that stranded strangers and turned them into neighbors. The cold here isn’t a menace but an invitation, to gather, to share, to marvel at the way breath crystallizes in air like tiny diamonds.

What Arbor Vitae offers isn’t escapism but a recalibration. The absence of traffic lights becomes a feature, not a flaw; the dearth of chain stores feels like a silent protest against the centrifugal force of modern life. In a world obsessed with scale, this town insists on depth, the kind found in handshake deals, in casseroles left on porches, in the way the library’s porch light stays on till midnight for patrons who need to return books after closing. You leave wondering if progress might sometimes mean circling back, rediscovering the grace in smallness, the courage it takes to root where you’re planted. The trees, after all, have known this all along. Their rings whisper it: Stay. Grow. Repeat.