At this point of the month, it hardly ever feels like it is still Spring. As if on cue, when the unofficial start of summer is declared on Memorial Weekend, the temperatures will rise, humidity will arrive and there will be a very summer-like thundershower. I deeply resent this annual phenomenon. Summer needs to stop muscling into Spring. After all, the season of rebirth and renewal still has at least three more weeks if not a month to go. And I would like to savor it fully.
Instead, Summer bullies her way in, puts paid to the late spring flowers just as they’re coming into their own. Case(s) in point – the alliums were standing tall and resplendent in their purple pompoms before the unwelcome heat and humidity quickly faded them out . They look like allium ghosts now.
The peonies in my garden start revealing their exotic beauty unfailingly at the approach of Memorial Day. And just as unfailingly, the temperatures get uncomfortable high and a heavy downpour will follow. The heat hastens the blooming and the rain madly tears out the petals leaving behind a sorry, sodden browning mess to clean up. I’ve learned to run out just before the shower and gather as many peonies to enjoy indoors. But we know well it’s just not the same. Cut peonies do not last as long and the plants outdoors look bereft. Truly sad.
The pair of native wisteria scrambling over the pergola bloom later than their Asian cousins. This is a trait I value because early Spring has so much to offer that waiting for the wisteria makes late spring more comparable. But, my joy at basking under the flower laden pergola or gazing swooningly at them from the rooms above, is short lived. The cruel heat rapidly toasts the racemes to a shade of gray causing petal fall that closely resembles the sorry, week old remnants of a ticker tape parade.
Indeed, resentful I am. But, having vented, I feel better. A tiny bit.
Note: Late May in my garden –
(c) 2024 Shobha Vanchiswar
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