Azaleas! Dogwood! Dandelions?

There's nothing much more spectacular than a blooming azalea. Our red azalea insists on pouring through the patio railing, making certain we don't miss its glory, and to make sure we don't forget that it is the first of two dwarf bushes to bloom in the Spring. Then, about the time it starts looking a little tired, along comes lovely Miss Orange Azalea, not to be outdone. She pours out the other way, into the yard, where I have to surround her with bricks lest she get in the way of the mower (or the mower in her way, I should say!)
I wondered, when we first moved here, why the previous owners didn't plant two of the same variety. It's easy to understand now that having two of these lovelies guarantees a prolonged Springtime. They're both simply gorgeous, and we look forward to them every year.




Along about the same time of the year, and often close to Easter Sunday, the dogwood trees come into bloom, making splashes and clouds of white here and there through the woods and at the edges of fields. There is a legend about the shape and color of the blossoms. The dogwood has been "adopted" by the Christian religion as a symbol of the crucifixion of Christ. The legend says that a flowering dogwood tree was used to make the cross of the crucifixion and as a result it now grows as a living memory of the event. The cross is represented by the four petals; the petals' brownish marks represent the nails; the center of the flower sometimes resembles a crown. Take it or leave it, it's an interesting story.


And then, of course, there are the ubiquitous dandelions! This picture shows how obnoxious they can be, infiltrating themselves into areas where it is most difficult to dig them out without destroying something else. I still remember, though, how my children, when they were small, would pick handsful of dandelion blossoms and present them to me as a bouquet. A mom can't ever forget those dancing eyes and cute smiles. I'm certain the same tableau continues today with other moms and kids, because we've never found a permanent dandelion slayer... so that's a good thing.