“The chaos in nature is quiet, latent,” she says. “A lamb’s death is quiet; so is the gradual death of a crop of flowers.” Sitting on the lawn, birds singing from the trees, she remembers that long-ago bunch of black dahlias and sighs. “People look at flowers as objects — as a decorating element, not a living thing. But sometimes the most beautiful thing is the most fleeting. The most fragrant, delicate rose — often those wilt in minutes. Flowers are about living in the moment, and then letting go.”