Wednesday, April 8, 2009


My yard is at its most beautiful right now. With all the rain and the warm days (not counting today when it's in the 30s again!) everything is blooming happily. Buckeyes don't usually grow this far south, but I have two on the bank on the creek bursting with red blooms.

The azaleas vary from the orange red Christmas Cheer to the almost purple Pride of Mobile. They are beautiful. Today's poem is a celebration of garden color. I couldn't agree more.

The Garden Changes

When I was young, I grew
dull plants returning food
for work. But I, now older,
repent my practicality.
I’ve renounced beans, and turned
to crocus, gladiola,
and coreopsis. I’ve moved
past zinnia, marigold,
to bougainvillea.
I’ve even learned to love
poor salvia, which blooms
on August days, when few flowers
will venture anything
but green. The summer’s short
and ornament is what
I want—all vividness.
Not pasty cauliflower
and not potatoes, whose
gnarled flesh is more and more
like mine. Give me bright blossoms
against the teeming green.
Give me orange flags, blue horns,
white faces, yellow wings.
Give me the purple throat,
breathless, of calla lilies—
and red, red, red, red, red.

--Andrew Hudgins