This tree seduces me every year. It blooms as though dressed for a party, decidedly out of place in this decidedly working class town.
Its flowers look like pink corsages decorating a Belle Epoch evening gown. House of Worth, maybe? I can definitely imagine someone
like Jenny Churchill making a grand entrance
dressed in green silk organza with garlands
of pink lacy tendrils and crystals lighting it up.
Take another look at another time and the tree seems prehistoric,
as if from a scene in "Jurassic Park." The first time I saw this kind of tree
was on a corner near my workplace.
I passed it every spring and always took its picture.
I hadn't seen another until
I found this one a couple weeks ago.
I still prefer to imagine it as a dress, though.
I dealt with enough dinosaurs at work.
I looked at my post this morning to find
that one of the pictures had not been included.
It is now, and thank you, Dive, for reminding me
that it is, indeed, a mimosa.
I looked at my post this morning to find
that one of the pictures had not been included.
It is now, and thank you, Dive, for reminding me
that it is, indeed, a mimosa.
3 comments:
Wow! I've never seen a pink mimosa before. Those fluffy little confections are simply gorgeous.
I wish they grew this far north. We have the dinosaurs but not the pretty flowers.
Ooh, Dave, thanks for reminding me of the tree's name. Mimosa. Of course, as in champagne with orange juice. Yum. Too bad the dinosaurs grow everywhere, but the pretty mimosas do not.
I really enjoy your rants, by the way, as well as the "peepees," stiffy or not. Baps don't do a damn thing for me.
Hee hee.
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