This is the hour for thinking hydrangea … I have lost … yes, a sense of my own possible beauty.
~ Simone White

When I think of the early days of summer, I think of hydrangeas. I’m currently spending some time on Block Island, RI—I think this little island must be the unofficial hydrangea capitol of the world because they are pretty much everywhere I turn and blooming in nearly every color they come in.

Hydrangeas come in cone shapes, lace-caps, and those puffy clusters of pom-poms ranging from creamy white to deep blue, plum purple, and bright pink blooms that always remind me of cotton candy.

In the language of flowers, hydrangeas symbolize gratitude, heartfelt emotion and deep understanding, with the lace-cap variety also representing humility and grace.

Personally, I just find them to be bright, cheerful clusters lolling in the sun, a buffet for bees, and they make me happy every time I look at them.

Two wooden tubs of blue hydrangeas stand at the foot of the stone steps.
The sky is a blue gum streaked with rose. The trees are black.
The grackles crack their throats of bone in the smooth air.
Moisture and heat have swollen the garden into a slum of bloom.
Pardie! summer is like a fat beast, sleepy in mildew…
~ Wallace Stevens, an excerpt from Banal Sojourn, 1919

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