
Every July, the crape myrtles in my garden remind me why Southern gardens are so unforgettable.
When the spring flowers have finished and the summer heat settles over North Carolina, the crape myrtles begin their performance. They bloom for weeks, filling my garden with clouds of pink that seem to float above their smooth, cinnamon-colored trunks.

These are not just flowering trees. They are living sculptures. Their bark peels away in graceful patches, revealing shades of tan and cinnamon beneath, while their branches reach outward in a shape that is beautiful even in winter.

I have never committed crape murder, the severe pruning that ruins the natural grace and integrity of these trees. Instead, I let them become what they were meant to be. Given room to grow, and only judicious pruning, they reward patience with an abundance of blossoms that make every glance out the window feel like looking into a painting.

Some feel crape myrtles have been over planted, but every summer, right on schedule, they return to remind us that beauty has its own season, and that some of the finest moments in a garden arrive when the days are hottest.
Thank you for visiting.

July has 31 days honey.
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Oh, you are right! Thanks…I changed the title.
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