Delta Dreaming: Colors

            If you ask one of “The Old Ones”—the spirits of Wattensaw residents past who sometimes speak to us when it suits them—if they would have ever thought they might be wishing for a couple of days of dry weather in the middle of July, they will laugh and say “no.”

            It rained again last evening, spoiling the “rum and pasture gazing” hour. It continues to be one of the wettest summers anyone remembers, even The Old Ones. The rain delights the grass but baffles the vegetable plants in the garden. It’s been a weird summer for them and they exhibit more growth than produce.

            One person is happy though. The Lady Hazel fairly ran around the corner yesterday morning yelling for me to get my camera. What was up, a snake, big turtle, strange animal? Nope, she led me to her favorite crepe myrtle tree and pointed. “Would you look at that?” she said.

            I’ll admit it was something. Tender love and all this rain produced one of Mother Nature’s finest performances. Purple blooms fairly weighted down the long, slender branches and screamed pure joy into the morning sky.

            “I want a picture of that,” she said.

            I needed to get back to our urban condo and promised to photograph it later but she would have none of it. “You’ll say you will then forget,” she said, coming as close to speaking sharply to someone as is possible for her. What could I do?

            There is a sample below but the morning light wasn’t suited to capture the full glory. It did make me think about how the colors of spring and summer flowers must have added joy to a hard life in the Delta. You can always tell where a house stood, although all signs of any structures have long rotted away. The flowers remain and bloom each year, laughing as their bright colors cheer the dense forest floor. Then you know a person who loved colors once lived on that spot.

            As long as there are people, I suppose there will be bright flowers, even in the dullest of lives. Maybe some primordial instinct draws us to them as it does for insects. At any rate, as a well-known TV personality says, “It’s a good thing.” Just ask The Lady Hazel.