Here now and gone tomorrow — a photo essay

The fragile bounty of Federal Hill’s rhododendrons

Photos by Laura Bailey and text by David Fortier

By the time this gets posted, on Tuesday, June 4, most of the blossoms from these rhododendrons will have dropped to the ground and what remains are the vestiges of limp stamen and pistil, petals turning brown and themselves dropping away–at least in most cases, this will be true, but here we have proof of what they looked like another day, from the previous week.

Even at the time of the photos, many of these floral giants will have already peaked leaving hints of green through the heightened pinks and reds–even whites–that when full concealed the greenery beneath.

Rhododendrons, of the New England variety, are less substantial that their British counterparts, their trunks and branches much more slender than the elephantine constructs of their cousins across the Pond.

From what I have remember from a long ago visit, the rhododendrons of Kew Gardens are so much larger not only because they have been around longer than most of those found in our front and back yards, but because the temperatures in London are much milder than what we experience here in southern New England.

It was not surprising to find children, and even adults, perched on the Kew Gardens variety; and in other places, to find a large branch braced by a bulwark of supports. The breadth of a tree might take up 25 yards in circumference if not more.

Whether on Goodwin Street or Bradley, down Grove or over by Beleden Gardens Drive, our New England variety rhododendrons abound. They might be pressed against a home, on the periphery of the property line, perched over a stone wall, tucked between some shrubbery, it doesn’t matter, the bold reds and purples garner attention.

The memory of these blossoms is a miracle. Only a week ago, taking a moment to linger by the freshly opened blossoms meant being subjected to the subtle perfume of these blossoms as they wafted through air, tumbling through conscious, a singular reminder of how fortunate to be in such close proximity of beauty that colors and scents our days–if only we allow ourselves to pause and take them in.


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