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Wednesday, June 8, 2011

My sign of the end of summer

Yes, the crape myrtle. The Town of Angier used to have, and might still have, an early fall festival to celebrate the crape myrtles that lined its streets. They were beautiful, and we would take several of the ten-mile trips just to admire the trees.

However, something has been happening. The trees bloom earlier each year. It might be global warming, but I more suspect someone is refining the cultivars and selecting for earlier blooming.

Regardless, they are putzing with my seasonal clock, and seeing these white blooms yesterday left me with that residual sadness that comes with progressively shorter and cooler days. I'll need some lake time to burn this funk out.

Please note: It is not even summer yet. We have two more weeks of spring left.

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