It is natural to think all flowers possess an inherent beauty, and this lily is no exception. On a blurred background it hangs alone, solid yet aurora-like petals dancing around the reproductive organs: nine stamens and one lone carpel. These last two structures not only fill what would otherwise be an empty center, but also form a hierarchy, the pages and the queen. The flower is pointing down and under a light shade, like a depressed person. This contrast between visual grace and positional disgrace, is it not reminiscent of Les Misérables? It will soon be pollinated, then develop into a fruit and disperse its seeds en route to rebirth. However, this interpretation depends much on imagination, and would show better if the background was made darker, towards pure black or deep maroon.
The lily is obviously the center of attention; the stamens and carpel lie in an area with lower luminosity relative to the petals, whose thin fibers are visible even when zoomed out. In this way, a certain delicacy is imparted to the object as a whole, but this feeling is stunted to an extent by the aforementioned background and a dubious aperture choice (the top petal is out of focus, as is one pointing southwest). As well as that, another lily on the photograph's far right throws off overall balance - "photobombing" as the Internet's naturalised citizens prefer to say. Nothing much distinguishes this work from countless other flower-on-a-plant photos - some for postcards, some for encyclopedias, etc. - except its location, its time, and its title: Lilian's Going Down.