The multiple colors of Crepe Myrtle offer respite from the overwhelming green in the state of Tennessee. Given to us by English gardeners, these blossom-covered trees are clearly less succulent than the tropical canopy that looms over our everyday affairs. Instead, they are like elegant elderly women sitting amongst pulsating, sweaty youngsters, cheerfully providing reminders of mortality and the beauty of standing separately.
So I wonder whether the dabs of color from the Crepe Myrtle may have brought the same thoughtful cheer to the Southern wives who lingered in the abyss of the Civil War. Or did those women find in the scent of the honeysuckle an ever more gentle reminisce while they stood to create new lives?
So many facets to the elegance and beauty of the South . A feast for the senses; a lyrical way of life.
Thank you for your comment. In my next book, I hope to find many ways to describe the thoughts of a young woman rebuilding her life during the years of Reconstruction after the Civil War.
Second time I came across your site on Google. Great stuff.