Fragile floral lace
Blushing with the hues of dawn
Memories of yesteryear
Scatter faded confetti
There is something about hydrangeas that always trigger memories of childhood. Each cluster of flowers is a fairy bouquet that carries the past in its petals. The muted tones remind me of my great grandmother and her garden. She smelled of lavender and camphor and fed the hydrangeas outside the front door on tea-leaves.
As I touch the pale petals, I remember there were ferns beneath the hydrangeas. I am a child once more, wanting to collect their seeds at midsummer moonrise and make a wish. Fairy magic, said great grandma… but I was always asleep in the big mahogany bed when the moon rose.
The fragrance of heaven filled that garden. New mown grass and lilac, lily of the valley and deep, velvety roses, all overlaid with the warmth of fresh-baked bread and the tang of the coal fire in the range. If I could make a wish now, it would look like a garden.