A warm sun, pouring its rays down upon ground well soaked by weeks of rain has brought the flowers of Chapel Hill out in a profusion of gorgeous color. Great banks of vivid yellow forsythia are scattered upon fresh green lawns. Rugged stone walls are surmounted by feathery clouds of white. The japonica raises its blood-red blooms above the delicate violets and snowdrops. Heavenly blue periwinkles smile by the thousands from old yards shaded by great oaks. Pale yellow cowslips look up timidly from the borders of garden paths.
Fruit blossoms are out in bursts of glory. The plums flowered first. Then, as if fearful lest they be left behind, the peach blooms opened upon the village in a shower of pink. Along with them came the pure white clusters of the pear and the pink buds of the crab-apple and the quince.
In the Arboretum the Japanese weeping cherry stands alone, its drooping branches laden with exquisite pink-white flowers. It is in a perfect setting behind it a bank of winter honeysuckle, a smooth greensward stretching away on one side, close at hand a curving hedge of white spiraea, and beyond that a graceful and lofty silver birch.
There are other delights to come. The tulips and the iris are budding. The Judas tree is turning. The tasseling of the oaks is near at hand. Wisteria, white and purple, will soon be spreading its fragrance through the air. And another week or two will bring the lilacs into bloom.
From the front page of The Chapel Hill Weekly, March 29, 1923, Louis Graves, editor.
No comments:
Post a Comment