My Back Yard in Spring or, the Azalea Mohawk

Every year the azaleas explode in my back yard.  This year, it's more pronounced than ever, because very little hasn't bloomed - seems every bud got the same memo: We go at midnight on the 14th!

And, every year I get to chuckle at the pink stripe in all the white azaleas (white is on the other side of the back yard, too).  The original owners were a man who worked making bombers during WWII and his blind wife.

I like to think about his putting in all the flowers and how he described them to her each year.  By the way, she had a German Shepherd seeing eye dog.  And I can just imagine how he skipped the fact that he mixed the colors the way he did.  But I bet her son told her at some point and she privately smiled each year as her husband described the progression of snow drops, then daffodils and finally the azalea explosion each year.

At least, that's the picture I see.