Under our
window the pilgrim rose has doubled through winter, cloud of green with green
buds that break through humidity into white-yellow by Cup Day. It’s the first day of November. New shoots of
serrated edge softness cover Japanese maples, their green trunks well able for
any conditions. Some leaves are edged red. But above us the jacaranda has
totally lost it, its curvatures and wiggles outlines where feathery green
shaded the window. It’s the same old story morning glory. By December every
branch will be blue-purple, more haze adding to the mauve haze lining hilly streets
of sleepy Rosanna.
No comments:
Post a Comment