The mock orange is picking up where the peonies left off. Such a nice plant, covered with four-petalled white flowers and smelling sweet on sunny days. (Or at least in the few hours of sun between thunderstorms.) The poor thing was so smothered by that ugly pile of forsythia, when I first noticed it, there was just one branch struggling for air. I wasn’t even sure about what it was until last year. So I waded in and hacked away some room.
And now look! I’d say it’s actually a lot more suited to that corner than the stupid forsythia. Some serious pruning is going to ensue.
Writing Every Day 