I have a number of hydrangeas on my conscience, having tried and failed to grow them in a Canberra garden more often than was sensible. The dry heat of summer got them every time. My admiration for the hydrangeas I've been seeing on walks in Bristol is therefore tinged with envy - not to mention mild remorse.
Hydrangeas are often considered unglamorous. They are usually grown in suburban gardens, and suburban gardens tend to be looked down on by the arbiters of taste. While I would be happy if I never smelt a privet hedge in flower again, (even though one of them did inspire Michael Frayn to write a novel), I love well-tended suburban gardens.
I find them very reassuring. They suggest that there are people around who want to create beauty - or at least prettiness - and have the patience and discipline to pursue that goal over months and years. In other words, at least for me, suburban gardens - and burgeoning hydrangeas - far from being dull and dreary, (“suburban” as an adjective is too often used to encompass “dull” and “dreary”), are small markers of civilisation.
I'm fairly sure that the Motion Picture Association of America has hydrangeas planted on its property, on the far end of a block that faces Lafayette Square, just north of the White House.
ReplyDeleteIt's a long time since I saw a good American motion picture, but I don't know if this is related to the planting of hydrangeas - possibly the industry became distracted from the business of film making by gardening?
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