Borrowed Beauty

     Our next door neighbor has a fascinating house, and garden, and life. Don’s a retired English professor, accomplished author, avid environmentalist, and critical martini drinker (the vodka must be freezer chilled and thick). When he is here (Don spends most of his time at ‘The Place’, a large parcel of land he brought back to life in southern Mississippi and has bequeathed to the Nature Conservancy as the Willie Farrell Brown Nature Reserve), he provides me with snappy conversation and laughter. Don has also provided the neighborhood (and my front porch) with the most beautiful flowering tree I have ever seen. But, what is it? Don was in Mississippi so I called his cell and asked. He couldn’t remember. He’d think on it and get back. Three days later, a knock at the door, and there was Don (walking his four-legged companion Puppy) when he read me the riot act. “I want you to know that you owe me some serious cocktails as I have been sleepless for days in an attempt to remember the name of that damn tree because I thought I have to for my neighbor, after all ,she’s more than a neighbor, she’s a dear girl, and I just love her!” (Insert: Cheryl now exhales)

I can breath now, and unequivocally state that the tree is a persimmon, Don is a wonder, and I love being called a “girl”. 
Fruitless (male) Persimmon 

Diospyros virginiana

  • rosie k - Your neighbor sounds wonderful…isn’t it amazing when we surround ourselves with intelligent, interesting, artistic people, we become more of what they are?ReplyCancel

  • rosie k - Or I should have said…”They bring out the best in us”…see, I need a Don next door to me~ReplyCancel

  • Cheryl - We certainly shared our ideas- and I think, made each one of us a better ‘us’. I know you always inspired me- still do!ReplyCancel

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