We mourned the felling of the old walnut
tree, having no choice in the matter,
the decision of unseen higher-ups
in his condo community.
One of us took photos of the other
atop the remaining stump, and one of us
cried when she came back to find it
ground into shreds. But we were cheered
when one day someone planted what
seemed to be a skeletal shrub, without
identification. Dendrophiles that we are,
we consulted a plant lady friend
three states away who declared it
a crape myrtle. So Myrtle she became,
though apparently she’s monoecious,
with both male and female parts.
The question became: What color is she?
Not expecting blossoms her first year,
we figured we’d live in the mystery for
some time. But she has sprouted, well,
sprouts on the ends of her luscious leaves
that looked as if they might be wee buds.
And yesterday, we swear, within hours
after we checked, we got our answer:
Myrtle has baby white blossoms
popping out already. We’d hoped for
a showy deep pink, but as with any
offspring, you get what you get.
And you love them no matter what,
our precocious girl. Top of her class,
we imagine as proud foster parents, one
of us who regularly waters her, even before
sprinklers were installed, which now shower
her with silver sparkles in late afternoon
light, this new neighbor who, we hope,
will outlast us for many summers to come.
•••
• dendrophile: one who loves trees
• monoecious (muh-NEE-shus): having both male
and female reproductive organs on the same plant.
Güd wrtr 
Crepe myrtles (or crape myrtles or crapemyrtles–both are correct) in the Deep South bloom in August and September and can grow to be house-sized over their long lifespans. Despite their near ubiquity, they are native to Asia.
In days long before Barnes & Noble, my favorite bookstore in Homewood, Alabama, was a wonderful place called The Little Professor. Tucked in the back of it was a charming eatery called the Crape Myrtle Cafe. I lost myself in many a novel while enjoying their cuisine. Sadly, both are gone, though crape myrtles line the streets of the city, plantings inspired by the former restaurant’s name.
I have a feeling you will really enjoy yours!
Thanks, Terry, for sharing this memory. Like you, I learned the spelling of that tree as “crape” myrtle, but nowadays, you see (the more European) “crepe” used, especially in nurseries. And you’re right—we see house-sized myrtles all around Sacramento.
Nothing better than a cafe in a bookstore… and what a lovely choice for a name. That the Crape Myrtle Cafe inspired the plantings is surely a testament to the popularity of the place, I imagine.
The Associated Press and the American Horticultural Society prefer the “crape” spelling, so I’ll default to them, rather than the nurseries!