You may suspect that I have some distractions in my life right now, and that they’re mostly outside. You might think that I’ll never get the dirt out from underneath my nails (fingers and toes, thank you very much) long enough to talk about anything more interesting.
This Rose of Sharon is an offshoot of the legendary R Family bush, the one that came from the City House, before they moved out here to the boonies, and that one was started by my husband’s dear, saintly grandmother. That original bush was out back, by the Bleeding Heart (which couldn’t take up the room it does now, because the Rose of Sharon was a tree, really), and it died a few years ago. Luckily, we had let a few of the many seedlings sprout, and we could keep the line going.
Every year, right around the time the wheat comes off, we’ll see one or two white blooms amid the vibrant green. And then, overnight, the whole bush will be packed with blossoms, and, if we’re still and patient, we’ll see the bees and hummingbirds enjoy the beauty as much as we do. When it was under the kitchen window, I was more likely to see the wildlife (aside from the bleeping Japanese beetles, which also enjoy it, but not in a way that helps it).