Camp Cougar Compendium of Flowers
- Camp Cougar
- Apr 18
- 3 min read
Updated: May 6
These images were taken during April, May, and June from 2023-2025. If you see any misidentifications, or know the names of the unidentified, please let me know. Quotes and poem written by Chat GPT.
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The Wild Bunch
We don’t need rows or garden beds—
we party where the sidewalk ends.
We twirl in wind, we splash in rain,
we crash the lawns without a name.
We dress in purple, gold, and red,
with petals tousled on our heads.
The bees all know our secret spots—
we bloom in places people don’t.
So bend on down, come take a peek—
we’re rebels dancing cheek to cheek.
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“She catches the sun in her golden palms, offering light to those who stoop to look.”
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“A golden chalice raised on slender stem, she toasts the sun with quiet elegance.”
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“She sleeps beneath gray skies, then wakes in flame to kiss the blue above.”
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“A warrior in violet armor, she stands defiant where softness fears to tread.”
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“Scorned by gardens but crowned by children, she grants wishes with every breath of wind.”
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“She rises in royal spires, a herald of summer crowned in violet flame.”
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“With petals brushed in twilight hues, she carries the dignity of dusk along the coastal wind.”
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“A tiny gem in the grasses’ green, she gleams with the quiet pride of the overlooked.”
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“She tempts with soft white bloom and thorned ambition, a beauty that always wants more.”
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“Small but stately, she crowns the earth with miniature spires and royal blue dreams.”
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“She rises like a queen above her kin, blushing in the breeze, regal and not shy.”
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“A scrappy bloom with a rebel’s heart, she paints the roadsides like she owns the land.”
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“She cups the rain in emerald hands, offering freshness to those who know where to look.”
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“Big-eared and bold, she eavesdrops on gossip from bees and breezes alike.”
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“Cloaked in dusky blue, she murmurs forest secrets where only the quiet dare to tread.”
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“She climbs with curling grace, trailing pink confetti across the green cathedral of spring.”
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“She streaks the soil with crimson joy, a firework flaring low before the grasses rise.”
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“She lifts her goblet of wine-dark silk, toasting the wild with a wink and a flourish.”
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“She flares like a secret flame, vanishing when clouds dare dim her stage.”
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“She burns too bright and spreads too fast, a golden trespasser sowing ruin in her wake.”
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“A blossom shaped by starlight, she bends toward earth like a message from the cosmos.”
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“She offers her heart in bloom, only to vanish—gifted to a hungry world before she bears fruit.”
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“She wears no name, only moonlight—blooming like a whisper no one dares to claim.”
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“A mimic in golden disguise, she dances like royalty in a borrowed gown.”
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“She flashes her star-shaped grin from the thicket’s edge, daring the bees to find her first.”
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“She arrives without a name, blooming like a riddle only the wild can solve.”
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