Her Majesty in the pink

There is a plant I call Her Majesty. Your Majesty when she is being directly addresed. She -this is definitely a lady- is a pink peony that I planted when we still lived in the log house. That makes her at least a quarter century old. She is part of the flower beds that are being revived inside the deer fence.

After years of neglect and barely surviving she has responded magnanimously to a thorough weeding and a good helping of mushroom manure.
Peonies don't bloom long but they are so spectacular when they do. She is still being overshadowed too much by a hawthorn tree that will be dealt with later, see Shiva and Coyote.

The best way to enjoy her blossoms was to bring them inside.

This  peony is the essence of  pink. Totally in your face and overdone. The flowers are ridiculously huge. You want to bury your face in them and inhale them to satisfy your inner little girl longing for all things soft, pink and ruffly.

None of the pictures really do her justice, but I tried.