Up the Sunbeam

I started September with the story of My Tony's crape myrtle tree , so I thought it fitting to end September with a status update. Crape Myrtle began the month producing hope out of despair, life out of apparent death . I was inspired, my heart uplifted by the little tree's TRY . 30 days later, after m any quenching drinks, the progress is obvious! Slurping up the desperately needed water, the tree's vitality was steadily renewed. Tiny round buds. Lots of them! Autumn's s unrise broke on Crape Myrtle from behind Mount Diablo, revealing profusions of raspberry pink, frilly, flouncy FLOWERS!! What a comeback!! Here I thought it hadn't bloomed and wouldn't bloom--I thought it was too late, but there it was, bursting forth like the shout of joy when morning chases away the darkness of night. What a beautiful response, all because of a frequent and steady trickle of cool, deep, life-giving water. I love it! What was a sorry, s...

It used to bloom. Sometimes it still tries, but it didn't bloom this year. Our crape myrtle, my husband's favorite tree with it's riot of ruffled clusters of bright raspberry flowers, should be capable of growing into a shady green canopy to cool all beneath from the blazing Contra Costa sun . . . but it hasn't. We had such high hopes for it wh en we planted it shortly after we moved into our house in 2000. Shown here (long before I had a good camera) on that fateful Tuesday morning, Septem ber 11th, 2001, when we knew the world would never be the same and nothing made sense, our crape myrtle was healthy and growing, still young and spindly, but go ing places. It proudly held our courage-flag as we tried t o keep hope alive in the midst of so much death and destruction in an event that felt i ntolerable. That was 2001--this is 2009. Wh y, after more than 8 years does that t ree look like t hi s? There are thousands of these trees in this a...