chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

Tag Archives: sedum

a frustration of beauty…

sedum season
Some years ago, when I moved into my house and began digging up the sad grass that called itself a front lawn, I picked up a few lentil-size bits of sedum that had shucked off a neighbor’s plant and tossed them at random into the yard. They spread themselves happily among the new plantings and each June, after the tulips and peonies and rhododendrons are finished, they fluoresce into brilliant mounds and swales of yellow.

I try and try to photograph this fleeting season, frustrated by its beauty, which my camera seems unwilling to capture, whether in cloud-light or sun: the yellow not nearly yellow enough, the effect not truly the illuminated-from-below radiance that the eye sees.

In the afternoon sun, this gush of early summer is a buzz and blur of bees. Stand back and every yellow thing on the block seems inspired by the color; lean in and the mounds reveal themselves to be uncountable constellations of five-pointed stars.