For eleven months out of the year these tall, gangly plants adorn the side of our house that people see first when they drive up to our hidden home. They are tall, ugly, scraggly in the winter and weedy in the summer. For 36 years they’ve filled this bed that began with a host of plants. I dug the beginnings from the woods not knowing how prolific they would become. Many times during their non-blooming times I’m tempted to pull them all out by the roots.
But about a week ago they bloomed for the 36th time. An array of glorious purple blossoms that are immediately covered with butterflies. The black ones dance in the sunlight, their wings flashing all hues of blue as they drink sweetness from the flowers. A shy hummingbird moth joins the crowd, bellies up to the bar. A slight breeze sends the heavy flower heads to bobbing, but none seem to mind.
A couple of years ago hubby decided to move a plant to the actual front yard, which is beyond the deck that faces the valley. It won’t be long before the entire yard will be filled if we don’t pull them out. But it’s nice to sit on the deck and watch this new patch attract its own drinkers.
These are wild phlox, but beyond that identification, I have no idea what their scientific name is. I call them beautiful, breathtaking, and one of God’s most gorgeous flowers. They don’t cut and keep well, they look awful for most of the year, but when they bloom they make up for all the other months that we put up with them.