Growing up in the foothills of North Carolina, behind my brick house in the woods, was a large bush that bloomed each summer with the bluest hydrangeas you’ll ever see. 

 

It rested in a fenced-in area where my dog, Teddy, would run and play, so, naturally, this became my favorite place to spend time. Dogs and flowers have always been touchstones of my personality. 

 

When you look closely at a hydrangea, you’ll notice that each bundle of petals, all with distinct features and even flaws, makes up a larger whole that is soft yet bold, intricate yet simple, and always beautiful. 

 

I feel like my being can be similarly organized in bundles, with each petal representing my various interests, passions, fears, and dreams all nestled together to shape who I am. 

 

As a Southern woman, hydrangeas will always hold a special place in my heart, and my bouquets, but I also can’t wait to plant them along the fence of my cottage in Martha’s Vineyard upon my retirement. They represent where I come from, and where I’m going, and for that, they will forever be integral to my identity.