The rhododendrons are having a tough time. Last summer’s heat domes messed up the formation of flower buds, so they’re just green this year. Maybe some will bloom later, but I’m not holding my breath.
Some of the azaleas have decided to pick up the slack, though. After a long wet winter, in all shades of grey, dusty olive, and wet fir, the first pops of plant pizazz are even more vivid. The cherries and plums are nice, certainly, but pink and white only go so far. Daffodils and jonquils are likewise glimmers of sunshine, but really it’s the azaleas and rhodies the color-starved wait for.
And this particular bush didn’t disappoint. I literally stopped in my tracks on my way home, staring at the flowers with my mouth a little open–both because I’d been running, and because I hadn’t realized just how much I longed for a few naturally bright daubs.
Happy Friday, my beloveds. I’m still trying to recover from the damn werelion thing and the new office chair requires an adjustment or two. But all the plants in my office are happy, and there are buds on the lilacs; this may well the the weekend they burst into exuberant bloom.
I can’t wait.