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April 1, 2025

Midland April Floral Selection


The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for April in Midland is the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens

April flower delivery item for Midland

Introducing the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens floral arrangement! Blooming with bright colors to boldly express your every emotion, this exquisite flower bouquet is set to celebrate. Hot pink roses, purple Peruvian Lilies, lavender mini carnations, green hypericum berries, lily grass blades, and lush greens are brought together to create an incredible flower arrangement.

The flowers are artfully arranged in a clear glass cube vase, allowing their natural beauty to shine through. The lucky recipient will feel like you have just picked the flowers yourself from a beautiful garden!

Whether you're celebrating an anniversary, sending get well wishes or simply saying 'I love you', the Be Bold Bouquet is always appropriate. This floral selection has timeless appeal and will be cherished by anyone who is lucky enough to receive it.

Better Homes and Gardens has truly outdone themselves with this incredible creation. Their attention to detail shines through in every petal and leaf - creating an arrangement that not only looks stunning but also feels incredibly luxurious.

If you're looking for a captivating floral arrangement that brings joy wherever it goes, the Be Bold Bouquet by Better Homes and Gardens is the perfect choice. The stunning colors, long-lasting blooms, delightful fragrance and affordable price make it a true winner in every way. Get ready to add a touch of boldness and beauty to someone's life - you won't regret it!

Midland Florist


Bloom Central is your ideal choice for Midland flowers, balloons and plants. We carry a wide variety of floral bouquets (nearly 100 in fact) that all radiate with freshness and colorful flair. Or perhaps you are interested in the delivery of a classic ... a dozen roses! Most people know that red roses symbolize love and romance, but are not as aware of what other rose colors mean. Pink roses are a traditional symbol of happiness and admiration while yellow roses covey a feeling of friendship of happiness. Purity and innocence are represented in white roses and the closely colored cream roses show thoughtfulness and charm. Last, but not least, orange roses can express energy, enthusiasm and desire.

Whatever choice you make, rest assured that your flower delivery to Midland Ontario will be handle with utmost care and professionalism.

Would you prefer to place your flower order in person rather than online? Here are a few Midland florists to contact:


Always Flowers & Gifts
281 First St, Unit 2
Collingwood, ON L9Y 1B2


Arbour's Flower Shoppe Inc
89 Main St
Penetanguishene, ON L9M 1S8


Barrie Flowers
649 Yonge Street
Barrie, ON L4N 4E7


Barrieflower.ca
11 Hart Dr
Barrie, ON L4N 5M3


Blue Mountain Flowers
207 Hurontario Street
Collingwood, ON L9Y 2M1


Chasing Petals Flowers
110 Anne Street S
Barrie, ON L4N 2E3


Evans Flowers
47 West Street N
Orillia, ON L3V 5C1


Seasons In The Country
390 Ecclestone Dr
Bracebridge, ON P1L 1T9


Simply Unique Flowers & Gifts
47 Sykes Street North
Meaford, ON N4L 1V9


Smart's Flowers
56 Hurontario Street
Collingwood, ON L9Y 2L6


In difficult times it often can be hard to put feelings into words. A sympathy floral bouquet can provide a visual means to express those feelings of sympathy and respect. Trust us to deliver sympathy flowers to any funeral home in the Midland area including to:


Chatterson Funeral Home
404 Hurontario Street
Collingwood, ON L9Y 2M8


All About Black-Eyed Susans

Black-Eyed Susans don’t just grow ... they colonize. Stems like barbed wire hoist blooms that glare solar yellow, petals fraying at the edges as if the flower can’t decide whether to be a sun or a supernova. The dark center—a dense, almost violent brown—isn’t an eye. It’s a black hole, a singularity that pulls the gaze deeper, daring you to find beauty in the contrast. Other flowers settle for pretty. Black-Eyed Susans demand reckoning.

Their resilience is a middle finger to delicacy. They thrive in ditches, crack parking lot asphalt, bloom in soil so mean it makes cacti weep. This isn’t gardening. It’s a turf war. Cut them, stick them in a vase, and they’ll outlast your roses, your lilies, your entire character arc of guilt about not changing the water. Stems stiffen, petals cling to pigment like toddlers to candy, the whole arrangement gaining a feral edge that shames hothouse blooms.

Color here is a dialectic. The yellow isn’t cheerful. It’s a provocation, a highlighter run amok, a shade that makes daffodils look like wallflowers. The brown center? It’s not dirt. It’s a bruise, a velvet void that amplifies the petals’ scream. Pair them with white daisies, and the daisies fluoresce. Pair them with purple coneflowers, and the vase becomes a debate between royalty and anarchy.

They’re shape-shifters with a work ethic. In a mason jar on a picnic table, they’re nostalgia—lemonade stands, cicada hum, the scent of cut grass. In a steel vase in a downtown loft, they’re insurgents, their wildness clashing with concrete in a way that feels intentional. Cluster them en masse, and the effect is a prairie fire. Isolate one stem, and it becomes a haiku.

Their texture mocks refinement. Petals aren’t smooth. They’re slightly rough, like construction paper, edges serrated as if the flower chewed itself free from the stem. Leaves bristle with tiny hairs that catch light and dust, a reminder that this isn’t some pampered orchid. It’s a scrapper. A survivor. A bloom that laughs at the concept of “pest-resistant.”

Scent is negligible. A green whisper, a hint of pepper. This isn’t an oversight. It’s a manifesto. Black-Eyed Susans reject olfactory pageantry. They’re here for your eyes, your Instagram grid, your retinas’ undivided awe. Let gardenias handle perfume. Black-Eyed Susans deal in chromatic jihad.

They’re egalitarian propagandists. Pair them with peonies, and the peonies look overcooked, their ruffles suddenly gauche. Pair them with Queen Anne’s Lace, and the lace becomes a cloud tethered by brass knuckles. Leave them solo in a pickle jar, and they radiate a kind of joy that doesn’t need permission.

Symbolism clings to them like burrs. Pioneers considered them weeds ... poets mistook them for muses ... kids still pluck them from highwaysides, roots trailing dirt like a fugitive’s last tie to earth. None of that matters. What matters is how they crack a sterile room open, their yellow a crowbar prying complacency from the air.

When they fade, they do it without apology. Petals crisp into parchment, brown centers hardening into fossils, stems bowing like retired boxers. But even then, they’re photogenic. Leave them be. A dried Black-Eyed Susan in a November window isn’t a relic. It’s a promise. A rumor that next summer, they’ll return, louder, bolder, ready to riot all over again.

You could dismiss them as weeds. Roadside riffraff. But that’s like calling a thunderstorm “just weather.” Black-Eyed Susans aren’t flowers. They’re arguments. Proof that sometimes, the most extraordinary beauty ... wears dirt like a crown.