A year ago this week, we planted a crape myrtle in our backyard. Neither one of us are tree or plant people, so adding a new addition to our landscape was a big deal for us. I worried about her during the Winter and it was a tough one, with lots of snow and ice. When Spring came it didn’t look like Myrtle had survived; we pulled her receipt as she was guaranteed for a year’s time.
However, slowly but surely, her leaves came out followed by tiny, little buds. We would see mature crape myrtles all over, in full bloom, and we kept wondering when our Myrtle would show her true colors. Perhaps what we suspected in the Spring was true, the Pennsylvania winter was just too much for her.
But last week, right before Hurricane Irene came a-callin’, my husband made his daily Myrtle Check only to report she had started to bloom. I hurriedly joined him outside to see for myself. It was true. Myrtle HAD made it and she is beautiful.
A mere 48 hours after she “came out”, Irene punished her once again. Why couldn’t Myrtle get a break? Strong winds, rain coming down so hard it came sideways. Nature again Nature. Myrtle against Irene.
Myrtle won.
