Last year a contractor transformed my garden in two lawns. With the idea that the little one could enjoy it without dangers and obstacles. So everything went, except the 3 fruit trees and a huge claerodendron trycotomum. Bye bye.
I saved this little beauty. There was a full carpet under the c.t. And now only this tiny thing that has just blossomed. I feel it like a thank you kiss.
There is a little story with it. Once upon a time. Some years ago, an old friend, from the times of high school, called me,after ages of silence. We were friends when we were kids. I went to see them in their beautiful property on the hills on the south side of the Po valley. They inherited a fortune from her uncle and got this far out place. 2 hours drive. I went to see them a couple of time and once he gave me a big vase of periwinkles, which I planted and called them with his name, Floriano. I do this with the cuttings I collected in my trips. Madame Garbaille is series of tamaias that I keep in the house as they do not stand our winters (I got them from our landlady in the Landes). Than the idiot, a chief medical internist in a big hospital that when she inherited he left to become a country gentleman. And that was not the idiocy, actually it was a smart move. The idiot got a terminal cancer and in a couple of years of hard headed struggle he went. I went to see him several times because he called me and he liked to smoke my cigarettes (Camels without filter) like when we were kids. So in that little periwinkle for me there is little of my friend. When I see her I always say. Stupid, look what you did.