On Facebook, people are posting pictures of dogwoods and azaleas in full bloom. I am feeling that surge of envy and longing that I feel when people post pictures of autumn leaves.
I miss dogwoods--and hydrangeas. People travel to see autumn leaves, but I would travel to catch the blooming of the dogwoods and the blaze of azaleas. My hydrangea tour would be later in the summer, I guess.
It's a shame I'm not more entrepreneurial. I could see flower tours as a business plan! Some people plan tours of Paris, and I dream of gardens.
Once I would have sneered at people who visit gardens--oh, the hubris of youth! And now, living in the land of concrete covering everything, I'm happy to go to any space that holds growing things. It can be a planned space, a formal garden, a patch of weeds.
We have been growing tomatoes in pots, and we're getting our first tomatoes. Down here in South Florida, tomatoes are a spring harvest. Since we're growing them in pots, the tomatoes are small. My spouse eats half in one large bite and hands me the rest. Then we both weep a bit at the luscious taste we thought we might never have again. We think of our gardening grandmothers who would not understand how hard it can be to grow a tomato.
It's strange to live down here where our seasonal indicators are a bit off much of the year. Yesterday we had summer temperatures and steamy humidity. This morning it's windy and cooler, a bit of autumn. The yellow tab trees are amazing this year, but now with this wind, I imagine much of the blooms will be swept down the street.
I've been making lemon curd, and my hands smell of lemons. It seems less a seasonal marker than an occasional treat. Once I made lemon curd and scones on a regular basis. Those days seem very far away.
I leave you with a rhyme from even further away. In childhood, when we saw the first blooms of spring, my mother would recite an old Burma Shave sign:
Spring has sprung
The grass has riz
Where last year's
Careless drivers is.
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