Why would we call something that produces blossoms of such delicate beauty by a name like "The Beast"? When we moved in, the hydrangea was the only living plant in our garden. The rest of the garden was full of trash and dead plant matter, but the hydrangea still thrived. Now, the hydrangea grows wildly out of control and I can scarcely bear to prune it at all. I feel it is not my place. Its will cannot be contained. I feel it deserves to grow as much as it likes for all of the hardship it endured in the beginning. It rewards me by pouring forth an abundance of electric-blue blossoms all summer.
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beyond gorgeous. you lucky duck.
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