Dogwoods are my favorite. I have loved the lore that surrounds them since I was a kid. And I have come to love them more now that they bloom so beautifully in my yard.
I can’t believe the blossoms have nearly come and gone. I look forward to them every spring. And thanks to our crazy winter everything seems to be blooming on a delayed schedule, so gratefully they have stuck around longer than expected. Joy!
I have forgotten how much I love the stunning white blossoms, the petal-tip crimson detail, and the beaded center head. It still gives me chills to see them in full bloom as the words of the dogwood poem ring in my ears.
Coincidence that it comes alive at Easter? Probably not.
Coincidence that I have adored the tree from the west coast only to find that it is the official flower of my adopted state? Not likely.
Coincidence that Jason planted them so I can see their glory from the kitchen? No way.
While I am sad to see the blossoms fade, I am grateful for the vibrant green leaves that have come in their places, ready to provide cooling shade for imminent
warm hot southern days.
Don’t have a dogwood in your yard? Get one. They are easy to care for. You can read more about them here.
Haven’t heard of the dogwood poem? Here is it. I distinctly remember sitting at a desk in my Catholic school uniform, rewriting the poem in my best cursive and coloring a picture to go with it. I have no idea who wrote it. Nor do I think there is any biblical basis for it. But I do think it is a sweet poem. Think of it the next time you see a dogwood.
And see if it doesn’t give you chills too.