Monday, April 28, 2008
And I Don't Even Like Pink
It's hard to believe that only a month ago this bank was not much more than a bunch of dirt and some dried out pampas grass. Now it has sprung to life, especially with the help of the monsoon rains we've been having here. For the first time in two years -- maybe three -- we are at normal rainfall. It will be an incredible thing to wave farewell to the on-and-off drought. Of course, my garden's suffering (as well as my water bill's) is nothing compared to the local farmers.
One of the first plants to pop was this rhododendron. I bought it about five years ago, when it was a little and affordable sprout. I thought it would bloom in deep purple clusters. Whether it was the pique of hybridization or a case of plant miss-tagging, I have ended up with this pink variety.
And as the person who removed every single fuschia azalea from the front yard upon moving into this house, getting used to this pinkness in my most coveted back garden bed has been a bit of a stretch. Still, I have to respect this particular plant for its guts and tenacity. Rhododendrons, like roses, grow in this area with little to no enthusiasm. Like my husband, they would rather be in New Jersey.