THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 23, 1995 TAG: 9507230149
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: ELIZABETH SIMPSON
LENGTH: Medium: 63 lines
They look as though they're standing on tiptoe.
The sunflowers that is.
They look like an unruly choir straining to see the sun, craning their necks to see past the flowers down front, thirsty for attention.
Standing in the middle of a field of them, I can almost feel the flowers jostling for position, hear them rustling as they nudge me aside in their quest for the perfect, most full-faced view of the sun.
They are a sight to see.
The sunflowers stand humbly next to the Bay Breeze Farms vegetable stand on Sandbridge Road in Virginia Beach, while beachgoers shop for onions, tomatoes, watermelons. I'm glad to see their droopy heads here, since lately I've seen more imitation sunflowers than real ones.
They are inspiration for towels and T-shirts and ties. Dishes and teapots. Barrettes and stationary. They are a perfume - Sunflowers - even though the real ones don't smell like much of anything.
Sunflowers are everywhere.
No longer relegated to the alley or the cornfield, the real ones are also front and center in gardens this year. With names like Lion's Mane and Sunspot, Evening Sun and Big Smile, they seem to sprout everywhere once you've spotted one. They can be waist high with heads smaller than your palm, or tower impressively well above 12 feet. With butter-yellow petals or deep golden tones, the flowers have infinite variety, yet seem strikingly the same.
Why the sudden popularity? Maybe because of the basic nature of the flowers. Their simplicity. The plants need little to make them thrive - just sunlight. And they jump out of the ground so fast you can practically see them grow, like something out of ``Jack and the Beanstalk.''
They may be in vogue now, but Vincent Van Gogh recognized their beauty long ago. Lacking money to pay for models, he painted sunflowers instead, believing they symbolized gratitude. He couldn't give away his blazing swirls of yellow in the 19th century. Yet his ``Sunflowers'' fetched $40 million a few years ago.
But even at that price a Van Gogh doesn't capture the true nature of the plant. There's something almost spiritual about sunflowers, something you have to go to the field to find.
Their collective heads twist imperceptively on sturdy stems on a slow swoop from dawn 'til dusk, following a path across the sky. Though they cling to earth, they steadfastly turn in their unembarrassed worship of the sun. In a windstorm they bow their ungainly heads to the ground, but revive with the kiss of sunlight.
They are mystical, yet earthly.
For Cindy and Steve Barnes, who planted 30 rows of sunflowers at Bay Breeze Farms for the first time this year, the flowers are more than a cash crop. And certainly more than a place for me to stand in midmorning sun. They are a public service. Says Cindy: ``They bring smiles to people's faces.''
For 50 cents, you can take one home; for $5, you can have an armful.
Ruth Gordon, the spunky actress who died in 1985, praised the flower with this wish: ``I should like to turn into a sunflower most of all. They're so tall and simple.''
I think I might have run into her this morning. by CNB