Every year I look forward to the gentle scattering of crepe myrtle blossoms on the yard and driveway and the vehicles and the roof. It is accompanied by tiny bits of nectar and a delicate scent. I don’t really miss the cold of my native Wisconsin but I do miss the beautiful views of fresh-fallen snow and hearing the plump snowflakes falling. Wind driven hard snow pellets chased me and others indoors—but these crepe myrtle blossoms are a wonderful substitute.
The trees surrounding my house are very old surviving several hurricanes. There are no white ones but purple and then a hot pink which bloom at different times. After a nice rain, the trees expand their trunks and branches–like corn, it is audible for those of us with good hearing.