I don’t wake up in the mornings expecting to see them anymore. I do like the sunlight here, and I do enjoy the prospect of planting things ‘from scratch’, as opposed to embroidering someone else’s work, as wonderful as it was.
But the scent of that pale pink rhododendron that sat just below the kitchen window at the old house… Oh, it was lovely. Not ‘pale’ at all; more like the scent of a really ripe watermelon, but more robust. The bees were just beside themselves when this rhodie was in full bloom.
And you can see the slight crinkle in the blooms, even when fully open. They always reminded me of fancy dresses about midway into a good wedding reception, when there’s still a bit of formality left, but there’s more of the celebration and less of the ritual going on. [Note: this description is perhaps the most thought I’ve ever given to wedding dresses when I haven’t been actually been at a wedding.]
One of the last things I did before handing over the keys to the new owners was collect cuttings from about five of my favorite rhodies in the garden, including “Watermelon Bride” , and sent them off to Van Veen’s out in Oregon. Today I got the call that the little plants, which have had roots of their own since this spring, are ready to be shipped to their new home in Elsinore. Hurray!
Yes, I do know what tomorrow is. Several of my students will be away at memorials, and my brother worked on the salvage/clean-up crew in lower Manhattan. I will remember, but I will also be thinking about renewal and hope…. and little baby rhodies.
Rethorykal Questions 