English Hydrangeas T hey stopped for a quick lunch at a pub just a few kilometers west of Bath. She and a friend had been traveling the Cotswolds and Wales and were nearing the end of their adventure. It was such a dreary day, but the hot soup and warm bread thawed the chill and warmed them. As they left she could not help but notice the beautiful hydrangeas. She was reminded of the huge bushes that grew in from of her grandmother’s house when she was a child. She never really liked them much; she thought of them as an ‘old lady’s flower’. But now, she loved them. The white, pink and blue of those beautiful blooms reminded her of travels to Italy, England and the America’s east coast, but most of all they reminded her of her grandmother. She had changed her mind. The hydrangeas radiated life and nostalgia. No longer were they an ‘old lady’s flower’.
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