The camellia years

 

I remember the first time I saw a camellia, really looked at it and saw it.  We had gone to Duke Gardens one fine spring day and after I’d taken the requisite number of pictures of my kids I looked around to see what flowers were in bloom.  In a corner of the gardens that I’d never paid much attention to before I found a group of trees that almost looked like they had roses growing on them.  When I read the nearby signs I found that these were camellias.  The flowers were lovely.

 

I’ve noticed a number of camellia trees blooming around town in the last few weeks, every one of them blooming profusely.  Each time I have seen one I have had the same feeling –a feeling of abundant beauty, beauty filling up the tree and almost spilling over. 

And as I’ve thought this week about my realization of how completely blessed we were our last few years in North Carolina, my memories of those years have felt like the camellia trees look.  Filled with abundant, extravagant beauty, almost to the point of spilling over.

So from here on out that’s how I’m going to think about them.  The camellia years…