I don't generally think about hydrangeas much, until I come here. And then I realize what utterly cool plants they are. I even like the white ones when the flowers age into green. So structural, so textural. This, by the way, is the same place with several hundred bucks' worth of Salvia farinacea, and the fab hanging basket. Fans of generous old Victorian homes are in hog heaven at Chautauqua. That group would include me. And if you like drowning in flowers, this is the place to visit. We had one, count it, one, evening while we were here when it wasn't raining, and we used it to best advantage. We strolled around the grounds as night came on, watching the colors of lilies and coneflowers, phlox and hydrangea shimmer in the dying light. When it gets dark enough you can't see the stems, and the flowers seem to float without visible support.
The blues of night:
matching perfectly the hydrangeas below, and the warm glow of incandescent lights:
The front porch is an art form at Chautauqua. People seem to be in competition for the Most Inviting Porch; the Best Decorated; the One You'd Most Like to Invade Quietly and Read On.
Pass me a julep, Lovey. I'm sneaking in these two photos from last year, when the Lord let there be light. This year, pahhhhhh. Rain.
But my all-time favorite snapshot of a Chautauqua porch is this one, brought to my attention by the super-observant eyes of BOTB. Can you guess why? Hint: I DIDN'T set it up.
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