As the summer has ambled on, turning gently into the 40’s and 50’s at night, certain of the flowers and shrubs begin to lose their color, their energy to stand tall, their vibrancy. Such is the case each year with the beautiful snowball hydrangeas (as I call them.) They produce huge balls of snow white flowers in the spring which turn to the softest lime green as summer glides through. In late August, the canes bend low to the ground, and the once white snowballs now begin to turn to rust and copper. This is what I observed in the garden that surrounds my back porch.
And then, about a week ago, a herald appeared – a new, small white snowball. The temperatures had not gotten warmer; in fact, cooler nights had arrived when it bloomed. I am enchanted. And somehow heartened, as if a messenger of hope had appeared in the midst of so much worldly turmoil. The leaves of this large plant are drooping, crumbling at the edges, yet bright and tall stands a youngster in their midst. So I thought to photograph this resistor of cold nights, this affirmer of life among his fellow snowballs, who slowly yield to the coming of fall.
The snowball hydrangeas look equally magnificent as they dress for fall, slipping gradually into their new and deep copper attire.
I am a believer in signs and synchronicity (which people often refer to as “coincidence” or “accidents”). I can’t be sure what message this lovely upstart is meant to bring, if any, but it brought me a renewed wonder in nature and her whims; a small feeling that anything is possible; and a smile every time I look at it. And that’s quite enough.
I did not go on my brief photographic venture alone. I was joined by Pumpkin, who lives next door, and who thought to also enjoy the simple wonders of a sunny morning.
Still A Dreamer 
What a lovely, special ode to the changing season! Beautiful, tender writing: “The leaves of this large plant are drooping, crumbling at the edges, yet bright and tall stands a youngster in their midst. So I thought to photograph this resistor of cold nights, this affirmer of life among his fellow snowballs, who slowly yield to the coming of fall.”
We call that shrub the Annabelle hydrangea, and a similar change is happening here, but you captured the moment perfectly.
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Thank you so much, Cynthia. And omigosh! you’re right! What was I thinking? It is, of course, a hydrangea. I have to go back and change that. So glad you saw that! (oy.)
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Cynthia, can you believe .. I just got an e-mail from friend/fellow blogger Diane – a master gardener – who tells me it’s a snowball viburnum! I think I may need a footnote now. Contemplating ….
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You’re in a quandary! The blooms are quite similar.
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I think I’ll decide what to do later … the old `what to do will come to me’. 🙂
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How lovely Jeanne, I believe in synchronicity too – and you had a very appropriately named helper for this time of year 🙂
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It helps make sense of things, doesn’t it? And yes, that’s my little old man … Pumpkin, always in season, but especially now. I’ve known him since I’ve lived here. Once a pretty tough customer, but mellowed as he’s aged.
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Beautiful writing, Jeanne! All things are connected to all things. Synchronicity is no stranger here.
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Yes, they are. And I am sure synchronicity resides happily with you! 🙂
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