Flowers are different in the fall. Whether it’s in the form of bolder hues, smaller size, or frost-nipped deformations, they have a character all their own. They also have the benefit of an afternoon light that is lower in the sky, more flattering, and somehow more revealing. Such is the case with this hydrangea specimen, caught in this backlit moment, putting on a quiet year-end show for no one in particular – all the garden parties and patio dinners have long since ceased. Yet it blooms on, mocking the soft frosts, defying the cool wind, and holding onto its blush carriage for as long as the sun entertains its final flirtation. I admire anything that sees the show through to the very end.
