May in Hampton Roads

Late March & April are really the glory months around here - the azaleas are in full bloom, the Bradford pears are full of blossoms, redbuds cast a purple haze. Flowers are everywhere.

Then comes May. Just the word 'May' conjures up images of children frolicking in a field of blossoms. Ladies swinging on swings with flowers in their hair (thank you 'Camelot'). It's a lie, I tell you, a lie! Not here anyway. Aside from roses, May isn't very colorful in these parts. All of the early spring bulbs have long since disappeared, most of the spring blooms have withered away, and most yards are devoid of any color except green.

Don't get me wrong - green is a beautiful color. One of my favorites, in fact. And the greens of May are bright and vivid. Intense greens that glow in the sun before the heat of summer dries & dulls them.

But you have to avert your eyes to avoid seeing the poor azaleas after they are finished with their color. Sorry azaleas, but you are pretty dang ugly without your blooms. Look at these before & afters:

Pretty sad. There is one unexpected jewel, though. If you lift your face and breathe deeply, you will catch whiffs of a sweet scent. Weeds. Delicious, fragrant weeds! I am referring, specifically, to honeysuckle and ligustrum.

Honeysuckle evokes powerful memories. We didn't have any in Illinois, where we lived until I was 7. But then we moved to Chapel Hill, NC, and there was honeysuckle everywhere. In both white & yellow. The vines covered the entire north side of the property our apartment was on. Is there anything that paints a picture of childhood freedom more than snapping off the bottom of the flower and pulling out that one precious drop of sweetness to fall on your tongue? Dining on honeysuckle is like turning back the clock for me. I love the stuff.

Ligustrum is a weed bush. Referred in old times as a privet hedge, modern developers use it to excess because it is cheap and grows fast. Both sides of my front yard are bordered by these bushes, and one of my neighbors takes particular glee in wielding his electric hedge trimmers and shearing them to within an inch of their lives, into smooth symmetrical shapes. He usually did this in early spring, just when the new growth started, so they rarely had a chance to bloom. But this year, he is feeling the years creep up on him (he is in his mid-eighties) and hasn't gotten out the shears yet. I'm glad, because now the bushes have had a chance to bloom, and ligustrum flowers have a sweet perfume that brings a smile to my face.

That little vase of sweetness is now in my living room. And look who I found in my front yard on this overcast & drizzly morning.

Who Likes Azaleas?

Sorry it's been awhile. I've had a lot on my mind.

This corner of the world is home to the North American headquarters of NATO, seeing as how we are also home to the largest military complex in the world. Every year, the nice NATO people put on a big party, in the form of the International Azalea Festival, in which one of the NATO countries is highlighted and honored. There is also a queen, some lovely young woman from the honored country. In years gone by, she was traditionally the daughter (and not always so lovely) of some important dignitary, but of late, they have selected any ol' Sally Sue. As long as she has some accomplishments under her belt, she is fair game. This year, the comely queen came to the Home to see our kids. Here is the story from our own blog.

Anyway, the Festival is timed to coincide with the height of azalea season here. We have azaleas here. LOTS of azaleas. Everywhere you look are azaleas. If you are willing to put up with shrubbery ("Bring me a shrubbery!" Movie reference - Sista G & BS can't play) that is ugly & scraggly & brown for most of the year, for about a month in the spring you will be rewarded with a riot of color that is unmatched by anything you will see. You can't step out your front door without tripping into them. Seriously. C'mon denizens of the southeast, back me up here.

In fact, unless your yard is full of them, your neighbors will likely drop broad hints that you pack up your bratwurst & New England clam chowder and get your obvious Yankee ass back up Nawth where it belongs. Only they will be ever so polite & genteel about it.

So I decided to step out my front door and stumble over my own to give you a little peek at what I am talking about here. All taken with my point-&-shoot set on 'auto' (hear that Russ?)

Front of the house:

Back of the house:

Side:

Swamp:

See what I mean? And my yard is not unusual. What is unusual is how much the blasted bushes need trimming. My neighbors tend to keep their bushes neatly trimmed.

HA! That sounds dirty.