State of The Compound Greenery
I believe that inhaling paint fumes and shedding tears for a couple of hours each day over Sally Field has befogged my brain. The trellis next to my porch is climbed by both Confederate and Carolina jasmine. The Carolina--yellow--blooms a couple of times annually and has done well in spite of recent years' winter and summer droughts and our few hard freezes. However, the Confederate jasmine hasn't bloomed for two or more years, and I was beginning to think the Carolina vines had overtaken it as surely as Sherman overtook Georgia.
Today as I was wandering around the yard--in my nightgown, of course, a sure way to draw traffic down our street because heaven forfend I not make a fool of myself--I wouldn't have even noticed the trellis had it not been for that heavenly scent. The South has risen again.
Vines heavy with Confederate jasmine.
A closer look. Wish you could smell it.
Also thanks to the aroma, I noticed my mother's amaryllis tucked into the corner of that bed. I don't believe it's bloomed since the year she died, but it looks like nature has helped it bounce back. I'm not catching it at its prettiest, but I'll watch it in case better photo ops come my way.
Nora Walker's got nothing on me.