You hear Mom and I whine a lot about the heat and humidity of our southern summers. Granted it's something horror movies could use for a plot enhancement, but that's a story for later into our summer.
There's something special about this time of late spring, early summer. The roses and native Honeysuckle are in bloom. Walking into the front yard is like walking into a bottle of perfume. There's no words to describe the fragrance.
Recently Mom and I have started sitting in the front yard close to the Honeysuckle; making plans for the new flower beds that are going around the pergola. We breathe in the lovely aroma as we try and decide what flowers are going to go where. We both tend to get lost in our thoughts and plans. More times than not one or both of us will doze off listening to the birds singing in the trees and the bullfrogs croaking in the creek.
Today after waking from our nap we were in a bit of a reflective mood. Mom mentioned the time she'd tried (to no avail) getting rid of the incredible amount of Honeysuckle growing in the trees around the fence line. She did manage to beat it back a bit but honestly nothing can get rid of it once it's gotten a foothold.
The same thing can be said about a rose Dad's Mother gave Mom when they first built this house. It's an incredibly old rose being one that Dad's Grandmother gave his mother many many years ago. Once it gets established it can grow to a truly impressive size; able to withstand anything Mother Nature can send. It's fragrance is like none other, an intoxicating amazingly spicy and rich rose scent, giving one visions of days long ago sitting in a porch swing sipping Mint Juleps from cool glasses beaded with sweat from the summer's heat.
Mom and I continued our chat and decided people could learn a lot from these two fundamentally southern garden staples. Neither one is incredibly beautiful to the naked eye, but one whiff and you're hooked. They both have withstood the test of time, as well as the worst that Mother Nature can send. Yet every summer they grace the rural southern country side with their simple allure and incredible perfume.
May we all have the strength to withstand the test of time, as well as whatever hardships may come our way; yet still manage to grace those around us with the simple beauty that shines in each of our hearts and souls.
Love, Molly and my Mom
There's something special about this time of late spring, early summer. The roses and native Honeysuckle are in bloom. Walking into the front yard is like walking into a bottle of perfume. There's no words to describe the fragrance.
Recently Mom and I have started sitting in the front yard close to the Honeysuckle; making plans for the new flower beds that are going around the pergola. We breathe in the lovely aroma as we try and decide what flowers are going to go where. We both tend to get lost in our thoughts and plans. More times than not one or both of us will doze off listening to the birds singing in the trees and the bullfrogs croaking in the creek.
Today after waking from our nap we were in a bit of a reflective mood. Mom mentioned the time she'd tried (to no avail) getting rid of the incredible amount of Honeysuckle growing in the trees around the fence line. She did manage to beat it back a bit but honestly nothing can get rid of it once it's gotten a foothold.
The same thing can be said about a rose Dad's Mother gave Mom when they first built this house. It's an incredibly old rose being one that Dad's Grandmother gave his mother many many years ago. Once it gets established it can grow to a truly impressive size; able to withstand anything Mother Nature can send. It's fragrance is like none other, an intoxicating amazingly spicy and rich rose scent, giving one visions of days long ago sitting in a porch swing sipping Mint Juleps from cool glasses beaded with sweat from the summer's heat.
Mom and I continued our chat and decided people could learn a lot from these two fundamentally southern garden staples. Neither one is incredibly beautiful to the naked eye, but one whiff and you're hooked. They both have withstood the test of time, as well as the worst that Mother Nature can send. Yet every summer they grace the rural southern country side with their simple allure and incredible perfume.
May we all have the strength to withstand the test of time, as well as whatever hardships may come our way; yet still manage to grace those around us with the simple beauty that shines in each of our hearts and souls.
Love, Molly and my Mom
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