Isn’t this path like a little summer fairytale? The crepe myrtles in full bloom, the green grass, perfectly manicured. Ah. . . fabulous.
But can you imagine this same path in Texas in early spring?
Am I the only one who can’t stand seeing all the hacked up crepe myrtles in the spring? When they prune crepe myrtles around here, they look so ugly and awkward. Like dead branches sticking straight up out of the ground. I’ve never liked this process. It seems like half the year, you have these ugly, awkward looking stick-trees instead of the gorgeous trees with a beautiful shape and color that you have in the summer. They’re not even the full form of a tree that you have when they’re dormant in the winter.
Apparently, there are is proper way and an improper way to prune them
A peek around the interwebs will quickly school you in the fact that the improper way to prune a them is lovingly referred to as, Crepe Myrtle Murder. Who knew?! Looks to me like there’s a load of Myrtle Murder going on in my neck of the woods!
But it turns out, it’s not really murder.
They don’t actually die from improper pruning. Deep pruning does produce larger, more beautiful flowers, but it changes the shape of the tree by weakening the branches. When they bloom fully, the branches are droopy. The tree is beautifully blooming, but shabby. If pruned correctly, it shouldn’t look “pruned” at all. The good news?
A “murdered myrtle” gets a second chance to bloom properly the next spring.
We have a tendency to over-prune ourselves in some of the phases of our lives too. We want to have bigger, more beautiful flowers, so we do what it looks like everyone else is doing, trying to make our flowers more beautiful. But somehow, when we’re finished we just look like sticks in the mud. When we do eventually bloom, our branches feel heavy and tired. Our tree takes a different shape, that might not have ever been meant for us.
Thankfully we get second chances too.
No matter where you’ve been. No matter what you’ve been doing. No matter how droopy and tired you may feel.
You get to start again.
Each new day, each new moment, holds a new chance for you to bloom.
Don’t murder myrtle.
Just let her bloom.
to more love,
Crystal
