Our one rose bush, a climbing variety that spreads across the side fence I can see from my writing area, has presented its first rose of the season. On the back fence, the Rhododendrons, probably my favorite of the southern shrubs, are in full bud. I eagerly await their unraveling.
Having grown up in an area of the country where blowsy beautiful peonies bloomed and the enticing smell of lilac purfumed the air, I miss them even after all these years away.
If I were an avid gardener perhaps I could find an adequate replacement for these two flowers, but I am not.
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