Out of the corner of my vision, from the vantage of the dining room window, a little cloud of blue caught my attention, and I knew immediately what had happened. This has been a summer where I was largely absent from the garden, and those times when I did make it our back, my mind wandered, unable to focus, unable to keep an internal journal of what was coming into bloom, what needed to be moved, what required watering, etc. Most summers, I’m out there multiple times a day; a gardener’s greatest weapon against trouble is a watchful eye.
As soon as this little blue cloud appeared, however, I knew what it was. I planted several hydrangea shrubs over twenty years ago in the shaded backyard area where this bloom suddenly beckoned. “Don’t forget me!” it seemed to shout in a little voice. “I’m not done yet!”
No, you beautiful thing, you are far from done. Part of me wanted to weep for having missed the journey to this point – so much fun is in the anticipation, the slow development of the mop-head as it first appears in compact and shriveled form, only to gain in size and shade. Right up until the end, we’re never quite sure what color these will take. Maybe there are still enough iron nails acidifying the soil at its base – whatever the case, this is a brilliant color – the very color that made me rush to get these shrubs into the ground during that first summer at our home.
For years – almost decades actually – they didn’t flower much. The past few summers, however, have found them throwing out a decent number of these gorgeous flower-heads. Patience is a virtue that sometimes finds reward.
