When we first moved into our current home, a grand rhododendron bush stood in front of our bay window, blocking out much of the light and view for all of the year (except on those exceptionally frigid days when even the evergreen foliage saw fit to curl up and into itself). It was such a large and healthy specimen that we left it there for several years, until it stopped reliably flowering, and I had to make the difficult decision to dig it out. It was the common magenta variety that it everywhere at this time of the year, and in its place went a viburnum, and then the Japanese umbrella pine that is currently being wrangled with rope to keep it upright. The winding journey of a front yard is never completely done.
Whenever I see a rhododendron in bloom, I remember this bit of our past, and I pause whatever I’m doing to appreciate its prettiness.
