May 15, 2014

The Mountain Azaleas are in full bloom in my part of Appalachia. Some folks call them wild honeysuckle, others call them flame azaleas. Me-I just call them pretty.
Mix together the clear blue sky of spring, the deep lustrous green of new growth and the bright orange of the azalea’s and you’ve got a pretty sight.
Silly as it sounds the orange azaleas have been calling to me. The one on the ridge out from my kitchen window says “Don’t you want to climb through the brambles to get a closer look at me? Don’t you remember the piece of barbwire growing through a tree near where I grow? If you come see me I bet you might find another treasure from days gone by. Just leave those dishes in the sink and come look at my beauty before I’m gone for another year.”
The one at the bottom of Doosenberry Hill calls to me as I drive to and fro to work. “Hey Tipper don’t you want to stop and sit a spell? I’ll tell you about the days when Pap was little. Do you know the Island Ford was just below here where Brasstown Creek flows into the Hiwassee River? Did you know your Pap used to roll up his overall legs and walk across the ford on his way to the mill? How about the time your Great Uncle Frank tried to cross the ford with a wagon when it was froze solid—now boy that was a sight!”
The one farther up Doosenberry Hill shares a varying message with me depending on the way I’m traveling. On the way to work it says “Stop it’s not too late! Turn around and go back to my brother down the way. After he tells you stories about Pap he’ll tell you stories about other Brasstown families.”
On the way home it says “SLOW DOWN! There’s a message waiting for you at the bottom of the hill LISTEN to what my brother says and stop for awhile!”
The Mountain Azaleas are in full bloom in my part of Appalachia. Some folks call them wild honeysuckle others call them flame azaleas. Me-I just call them pretty.
—May 15, 2014
I still call the wild flame azaleas pretty. The one out on the ridge outside my kitchen window has grown larger and prettier since I wrote about it 11 years ago.
I’ve been blessed beyond measure. The one growing at the top of Doosenberry hill no longer has to tell me it’s not too late I can turn around and head for home instead of going on to work a public job. Yet today when I drive Doosenberry Hill while the brilliant orange blooms are nodding above their green foliage I still think of Pap rolling his britchey legs up to wade across the ford and Uncle Frank trying to hold the team of mules as they skidded on the frozen water.
Tipper
Subscribe for FREE and get a daily dose of Appalachia in your inbox


This piece of writing is destined for your memoir, “The Life and Times of Tipper and Matt.” That would be the book you leave behind that someone will read from, still celebrating Appalachia, in the 22nd Century. I mean, who knows if video will last, but a book, properly cared for, will last for generations.
I agree completely with John. That would be a book to treasure.
I don’t think your readers know that there are several varieties of orange azaleas that are not what you are describing. Ours are very difficult to transplant and propagate. I’ve seen lots and lots of orange azaleas but these wild honeysuckle ones are rare. Most people never see them because they live in unexpected places.
The orange azaleas are a beautiful sight. At first glance, for a split second, they reminded me of leaves in the fall. Thank you for this beautiful picture with the sky blue sky!
The flame azaleas usually bloom in early June here. We have the white and pink ones too, which bloom much earlier. While all of them are beautiful, the flame variety is spectacular to my eyes.
I don’t think I’ve ever send orange azaleas but I sure would like to. We don’t have enough acidity in the soil to support them. They are so lovely.
Beautifully said: an example of the special “little” things & events that prompt beloved memories.
I haven’t had much time to read your blog lately.
This post reminds me of how much I miss it.
A few years back I had several large beautiful flame azaleas tucked back in the woods on my property but still very visable when in bloom. I had to have a bit of foresty clearing on the underbrush encroaching the cleared area around my house. I gave explicit instructions not to touch the ivy and flame azaleas when walking the property with the equipment operator. Well, you guessed it, all the azaleas were “mistakenly” torn out of the ground. I was heartbroken. Time passed and sadly, so did my mom. My dear neighbors and friends got together and decided to give each of us a plant of our choice to my sister and I. Of course, I chose a flame azalea, not realizing how difficult they are to find commercially. Several months later, the new plant was installed closer to the house. I call it mom 2.0 :). This is the second year and it hasn’t done much except to survive being nursed through the last two winters. I am hoping next year it will leap into taking off, kind of like following mom’s last three years.
Tipper,
Your writing is just beautiful. It draws you in and keeps you till the last word at the very end. I, too, love to see the pretty, wild honeysuckle blooming. Thank you for sharing. This was a joy to read.
Beautiful picture Tipper. Such a sweet memory reshare too. I love how a visual can bring the ‘memory’ to life again, inviting us to walk back in time.
I jumped over and saw Katie and Corie in their last video and they mentioned them and April sitting on a couch with Granny and breaking beans when they were young girls – a sweet memory for them. I also remember sitting on a wrap-a-round porch with my Grandmother in NE MS breaking beans. I was in my early teens. Even in my 80’s now, it brings back such sweet memories. Years later, when my parents retired and moved back to MS, we built great fun memories fishing, sitting around a table taking pecans out of there shells. Oh the stories we heard and what fun we had. When we had our children I remember my Daddy saying to his teenage grandson, you better get up son or your sur nough guna lose a crop:)
Dee, I am 71 years old, and now many members of both mine and my late wife’s families have now passed, I am constantly thinking of the good memories of the past times with these people doing the things you mentioned and wishing I could go back and relive those memories. If everyone had a mother and father in law like mine, you would hear none of this stuff about not getting along with one another. I loved them both, and some of the best times of my life were working with them around the house, hunting, fishing, camping or just sitting in one corner of the den “jawing” with my father in law, while my wife would be talking to her mother in another part of the den. The icing on the cake would be my own mother and daddy also being with us during some of these times. This is my reason for writing no amount of money, success or career is more important than my salvation and the the time spent with family. I want to add I meant “all family members” not just a few. I was blessed to have never had a bad time with any of my family or my wife’s family, it was always a joyful time except in times of death when we would get together. I have learned this in my lifetime when it comes to getting along with others, the problem is not always with them!
I’m surrounded by wild honeysuckle’s or orange azaleas and they smell like sweet perfume. I’ll probably see a lot today driving to the plateau!
Everyone have a great day.
I haven’t seen these in the Richmond, Virginia area, but they sure are pretty.
They call them Flame Azaleas here in PA, and they are blooming and are a most dazzling sight. I do love them.
One time, up near Wise, VA, I saw a whole hillside ‘aflame’ with the orange “flame” azalea. I’ll never forget it. There is, I believe, a bible phrase “He has made everything beautiful in its time…” and azaleas exemplify that. They are a sight to gladden the heart. I’m glad you have the blessing of the wild one on the hill and visible from the kitchen window. And even better I know the good Lord knows the thankful hearts and is pleased with our noticing.
“ This is My Fathers World” a hymn by Babcock which I love comes to mind! Thankyou!
How blessed you are to look out your kitchen window and see such beauty. I know I’d certainly be tempted to let those dishes soak for a while and go out and enjoy that natural beauty.
Beautiful memories of times gone by. Beautiful flowers of times gone by & still today. Thank you, Tipper, for the beautiful words you’ve penned for us today.
Isn’t it strange that we find them in the most inaccessible places? The orange ones and the pink ones too. Not near old home sites for no one could have built a house there. It’s like they are princesses who are kept secreted away except for a fleeting springtime day.
Do you get to see the pink ones?
Ed, I’ve never seen the pink ones but would love to 🙂
Look up pinxterbloom azalea. The plant look much like the orange ones except for the blossom being pink. They grow in the same conditions, like a dry hillside. I’ve seen them growing side by side up on Wiggins Creek. We called them wild honeysuckle too.
Orange azaleas are indeed a sight to see! The ones around here are of red and pink hues, but aren’t they all lovely? I like the idea of azaleas beckoning you and I never thought of it that way-sharing tales and memories past. I have sat and wondered about all the things a tree goes through in its quiet, stable life and I guess that’s along the same lines as your thinking. I’d like to see a wagon and mule team crossing ice. I bet it would be entertaining if no critters got hurt…oh what fun and joy little treasures bring to one’s life. I figure I got maybe 12 springs to go if I’m lucky. At nearly 58, I realize the life span is 70 if I’m lucky… that makes looking at and enjoying the seasons all the more precious as my seasons are wearing down and I know it…That brings comfort and humility to my soul…
That was a lovely piece. I’ll bet they are really pretty!
Well good morning you all one of my favorite memories of the orange azalea is from 1982 . I had just bought my first sears 35 mm camera because miss Libby had our first child a little boy. He would follow me around the east river mountain home where he was born and hid and play in the azaleas so I learned how to zoom in and out with my camera with him behind them . Gosh I must have 100.s of those photos.
Enjoy your day.
Mike