Myrtles and Turtles

(Actually, there are no turtles in this post.  Just stretching for a sub-headline.  Sorry.  We might talk about turtles in a future post, though, so don’t give up hope.)

Today, on this Thankful Thursday, I am thankful for Crepe Myrtles.  And generous neighbors.

When we bought Casa Lagarto, there were already six Crepe Myrtle trees in the yard.  Now we have ten!  (Generous neighbors.)  Two of them have white flowers, four are various shades of pink and red, and four of them are mysteries.

The mystery myrtles haven’t bloomed yet, but the others have flowered, and two of them are flat-out gorgeous.  Those last four–well, they could be anything.  I can’t wait to find out!

There are two things I love about crepe myrtles:

1. They are easy.
   You don’t have to do much besides leave them alone.  Some people prune them drastically every year.  Others call that “crepe murder,” and–needless to say with a name like that–frown on it.  Being a Libra, always seeking balance, I, once again, walk the middle ground.  A little pruning for shaping, but not scalping.  So far, they have weathered both drought and deluge, the grasshoppers (and other pests) seem to leave them alone, and they haven’t needed any fertilizer or other intervention.
2. They are Southern.
   I think they actually come from southeast Asia, but the sight of a crepe myrtle always says “the South” to me–by which I mean the southern United States.  In other words…home.  Sure, palm trees are more recognizably Florida, perhaps–but a crepe myrtle is Southern style.  Delicate, lacy flowers.  Thriving in warmth.  Blooming anywhere from Virginia to Miami.  Nowadays, there are some cold-hardy varieties, I think.  And maybe they grow in California and other western areas.  But you tend to stick with what you learned as a child.  Driving down I-95, it was the sight of the first blooming crepe myrtles that meant we were headed south.  To me, it still does.

Easy.  I like that, because I am the world’s worst gardener.  And it’s nice to have the epitome of Southern Style on the property.

I’ve got a palm tree, you know. but it’s the crepe myrtles that I love.