Jeanette Stokes

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There is a lovely pink crepe myrtle blooming outside my living room window. It is still young and began blooming a bit later than other myrtles around town. The city planted it in the little park next to my house.

I fell in love with the colorful trees when I lived in the upstairs of an old house in Greensboro, NC, in the late 1970s. A tall pink crepe myrtle bloomed right outside my bedroom window. My landlady’s first name was Myrtle, and I often think of her when the tree next to my house is in bloom.

The bright blossoms seem like a gift in late summer when the the fig tree has stopped giving, the tomato plants slow down, and the zinnias start looking a little dry. They remind me that each season has its own gifts for us.

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