I am sitting on a stool at my kitchen island, admiring the cleanliness and summertime light. I just scrubbed down the sink, wiped down the counters and range, and lyscol(ed?) the **** out of this room. It is clean and fresh. But the best part is staring my down, right in front of my face: a beautiful, bountiful bouquet of hydrangeas. I’ve always thought they were pretty, but in the sense of admiring them from afar. They grow without bounds at the shore, especially at Long Beach Island, but I’ve never appreciated their beauty here in this less-salty, inland climate. I have such a newfound appreciation for them in my garden, because of their generosity and artfulness. Each cluster of buds seems to change its mind on what color it will be. Pale pink? Blue with a dash of violet? Or a soft greenish blue? No matter what, they are beautiful.

So, my journey to hydrangeas started with some frustration. The deer have been chowing down on my hostas ever since the beginning of summer, and I have been so fed up with how stupid they look as haphazardly uneven, leafless stalks. I was even about to dig them up. So, in the meantime, after researching deer resistant perennials, I realized that nothing is really deer-proof. They’ll eat anything if they are hungry enough. One thing that was untouched by these ravenous deer — interestingly — was a hydrangea planted by the previous owner. It is a large plant, and it is situated right next to the hostas that the deer munch on every night. Mercifully, my hydrangeas remain preserved!

I came across a quote yesterday that I absolutely love.

“To start a garden is to have faith in the future.”

I am not sure how many more hydrangea buds I will get, but I am hopeful for more. I have adored having them on my new white sideboard in the dining room, in a vase on my bedroom table, and in the kitchen too.