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April 1, 2025

Norwood April Floral Selection


The Bloom Central flower delivery of the month for April in Norwood is the Circling the Sun Luxury Bouquet

April flower delivery item for Norwood

The Circling the Sun Luxury Bouquet is a floral arrangement that simply takes your breath away! Bursting with vibrant colors and delicate blooms, this bouquet is as much a work of art as it is a floral arrangement.

As you gaze upon this stunning arrangement, you'll be captivated by its sheer beauty. Arranged within a clear glass pillow vase that makes it look as if this bouquet has been captured in time, this design starts with river rocks at the base topped with yellow Cymbidium Orchid blooms and culminates with Captain Safari Mini Calla Lilies and variegated steel grass blades circling overhead. A unique arrangement that was meant to impress.

What sets this luxury bouquet apart is its impeccable presentation - expertly arranged by Bloom Central's skilled florists who pour heart into every petal placement. Each flower stands gracefully at just right height creating balance within itself as well as among others in its vicinity-making it look absolutely drool-worthy!

Whether gracing your dining table during family gatherings or adding charm to an office space filled with deadlines the Circling The Sun Luxury Bouquet brings nature's splendor indoors effortlessly. This beautiful gift will brighten the day and remind you that life is filled with beauty and moments to be cherished.

With its stunning blend of colors, fine craftsmanship, and sheer elegance the Circling the Sun Luxury Bouquet from Bloom Central truly deserves a standing ovation. Treat yourself or surprise someone special because everyone deserves a little bit of sunshine in their lives!"

Norwood Florist


Bloom Central is your perfect choice for Norwood flower delivery! No matter the time of the year we always have a prime selection of farm fresh flowers available to make an arrangement that will wow and impress your recipient. One of our most popular floral arrangements is the Wondrous Nature Bouquet which contains blue iris, white daisies, yellow solidago, purple statice, orange mini-carnations and to top it all off stargazer lilies. Talk about a dazzling display of color! Or perhaps you are not looking for flowers at all? We also have a great selection of balloon or green plants that might strike your fancy. It only takes a moment to place an order using our streamlined process but the smile you give will last for days.

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


Always In Bloom
324 Charlotte St
Peterborough, ON K9J 2V7


Avondale Flowers & Gifts
443 Dundas Street W
Belleville, ON K8P 1B6


Blooms on West Lake
15786 Loyalist Parkway
Bloomfield, ON K0K 1G0


East City Flower Shop
59B Hunter Street E
Peterborough, ON K9H 1G4


Flowers & Gifts by Brenda
2-203 Simcoe Street
Peterborough, ON K9H 2H6


Holton Flowers
62 Walton Street
Port Hope, ON L1A 1N1


McKnight's
41 Lansdowne Street W
Peterborough, ON K9J 1X8


Pammett's Flower Shop
208 Charlotte Street
Peterborough, ON K9J 2T8


Quinn's Blooms & Greenery
277 Division Street
Cobourg, ON K9A 3R2


The Village Florist
73A Bolton St
Bobcaygeon, ON K0M 1A0


Whether you are looking for casket spray or a floral arrangement to send in remembrance of a lost loved one, our local florist will hand deliver flowers that are befitting the occasion. We deliver flowers to all funeral homes near Norwood ON including:


Quinte Cremation & Burial Services
205 North Front Street
Belleville, ON K8P 3C3


Ross Funeral Chapel
135 Walton St
Port Hope, ON L1A 1N4


Why We Love Myrtles

Myrtles don’t just occupy vases ... they haunt them. Stems like twisted wire erupt with leaves so glossy they mimic lacquered porcelain, each oval plane a perfect conspiracy of chlorophyll and light, while clusters of starry blooms—tiny, white, almost apologetic—hover like constellations trapped in green velvet. This isn’t foliage. It’s a sensory manifesto. A botanical argument that beauty isn’t about size but persistence, not spectacle but the slow accumulation of details most miss. Other flowers shout. Myrtles insist.

Consider the leaves. Rub one between thumb and forefinger, and the aroma detonates—pine resin meets citrus peel meets the ghost of a Mediterranean hillside. This isn’t scent. It’s time travel. Pair Myrtles with roses, and the roses’ perfume gains depth, their cloying sweetness cut by the Myrtle’s astringent clarity. Pair them with lilies, and the lilies’ drama softens, their theatricality tempered by the Myrtle’s quiet authority. The effect isn’t harmony. It’s revelation.

Their structure mocks fragility. Those delicate-looking blooms cling for weeks, outlasting peonies’ fainting spells and tulips’ existential collapses. Stems drink water with the discipline of ascetics, leaves refusing to yellow or curl even as the surrounding arrangement surrenders to entropy. Leave them in a forgotten corner, and they’ll outlast your interest in fresh flowers altogether, their waxy resilience a silent rebuke to everything ephemeral.

Color here is a sleight of hand. The white flowers aren’t white but opalescent, catching light like prisms. The berries—when they come—aren’t mere fruit but obsidian jewels, glossy enough to reflect your face back at you, warped and questioning. Against burgundy dahlias, they become punctuation. Against blue delphiniums, they’re the quiet punchline to a chromatic joke.

They’re shape-shifters with range. In a mason jar with wild daisies, they’re pastoral nostalgia. In a black urn with proteas, they’re post-apocalyptic elegance. Braid them into a bridal bouquet, and suddenly the roses seem less like clichés and more like heirlooms. Strip the leaves, and the stems become minimalist sculpture. Leave them on, and the arrangement gains a spine.

Symbolism clings to them like resin. Ancient Greeks wove them into wedding crowns ... Roman poets linked them to Venus ... Victorian gardeners planted them as living metaphors for enduring love. None of that matters when you’re staring at a stem that seems less picked than excavated, its leaves whispering of cliffside winds and olive groves and the particular silence that follows a truth too obvious to speak.

When they fade (months later, grudgingly), they do it without drama. Leaves crisp at the edges, berries shrivel into raisins, stems stiffen into botanical artifacts. Keep them anyway. A dried Myrtle sprig in a February windowsill isn’t a relic ... it’s a covenant. A promise that spring’s stubborn green will return, that endurance has its own aesthetic, that sometimes the most profound statements come sheathed in unassuming leaves.

You could default to eucalyptus, to ferns, to greenery that knows its place. But why? Myrtles refuse to be background. They’re the unassuming guest who quietly rearranges the conversation, the supporting actor whose absence would collapse the entire plot. An arrangement with them isn’t decor ... it’s a lesson. Proof that sometimes, the most essential beauty isn’t in the blooming ... but in the staying.