Beginning April 7, about 300,000 people will mosey to Wilmington for the state’s largest festival–the 63rd Annual Azalea Festival. It would be nice to have something to show them.
All the shrubs in this picture are supposed to be awash in shades of pink, rose, lavender, and white soon. Not one bloom so far… not even one bud showing a tinge of color with the promise of popping open.
Perhaps Mother Nature will come through in the last week. I can picture desperate members of the Azalea Committee out with their heat lamps at night, trying to help her.
Some years the azaleas have already passed their peak by the time the festival rolls around here. One house in our neighborhood was on the tour last year and the poor woman who’d worked so hard on it had not one flower left on the dozens of azalea shrubs in her garden. They had been splendid in mid-March, but by festival time, there were only brown, spent blooms covering the plants. The poor woman probably spent the entire week weeping at her kitchen table… red, rose, pink, and white wines in front of her to help ease her embarrassment.
The festival is always held the first full week in April. Some years Mother Nature cooperates, other years she goes on a tear. If it isn’t too much warm weather too soon, it might be a late frost, or even heavy rains to beat the blossoms down and send the tourists home early.
Sounds like a crap shoot, doesn’t it?!
Speaking of crap… those azaleas in that very first photo? They’re in our front yard. I can think of only one reason:
The dog poop strikes again.