Rhododendron Droop

This morning, before going to weather.com to check the day’s forecast, I checked the vista from my dining room windows.  The massive rhododendron growing against the house is our privacy screen, protecting the room from drivers’ gazes as they zip down the hill.  Sprawling out eight feet and up ten feet, she is my crown jewel.  Landscapers want to give her a good trim, but I can’t bring myself to interrupt that big ball of green that erupts in purply-pink blossoms around Mother’s Day.

Today what I see is the Rhododendron Droop, and I know it’s below freezing.  Her leaves curl in on themselves and hang frigidly, yet the blossoms awaiting spring stand stoically, tightly clenched in the cold.  How can she withstand days like this and bloom majestically in a few months?

The Rhododendron Droop means bundling up when I go out and appreciating the warmth when I come in. The Rhododendron Droop reminds me to take a few moments to be still, mindful of the day and what I will do. Knowing in stillness there is strength.

 (Eager for spring? Check out English Garden Inspiration.)