Dangerous.

That’s a rhododendron for you.

My tale of woe began last spring as I drove along a road through a swampy area between Bangor and Orono.

I began to notice that the brush was aglow in pinkish-lavender flowers. I nearly drove off the road trying to identify them without actually having to step foot in the muck.

Days later, my family and I were headed to a beach near Lamoine when I told my father we had to stop so I could check out some bushes positively popping with suspiciously familiar pinkish-lavender flowers.

I nearly turned an ankle to get into the gully where the plants were growing, but I had my up-close and personal view.

This leafless (at the time), flowering wonder was rhodora, otherwise identified as Rhododendron canadense, a shrub that adores bogs and rocky slopes. And it’s just everywhere in New England and eastern Canada.

The saying “can’t see the forest for the trees” comes to mind.

But I’ve never been one to hide my stupidity, so I embraced my ignorance and decided I wanted to get to know rhododendrons better. Here I’d been surrounded by them all my life and didn’t even notice.

Pathetic.

Sure, I’d been wowed by the beauty to be found at the Asticou Azalea Garden on Mount Desert Island. Plus there were those shrubs I’d admired in the Lyle E. Littlefield Ornamentals Trial Garden at the University of Maine.

I even had my own tribute to the rhododendron with two common-as-dirt PJM bushes in my front yard along with a nameless big-leaf variety with red flowers.

I thought it didn’t get any better than this.

Did I say something about stupidity before?

The genus Rhododendron is simply huge with at least 500 species, although some put the figure around 900. It covers everything from heathers, mountain laurels, blueberries and cranberries to azaleas and rhododendron.

Hundreds of rhododendrons are available out there, and why wouldn’t there be? People have been detailing their discoveries of rhododendrons since the mid-1500s. There are many who were so passionate about the plants that they went off on great expeditions into uncharted territories simply to find new species.

Its Greek name explains a lot about this obsession: rhodon is a rose and dendron is a tree. And we all know how folks are about roses.

For centuries, intrepid explorers tramped through America (well, it was the 1700s), China, India, Ceylon and Nepal looking for something new to whet the ravenous English appetite for unique varieties. One fellow, Sir Joseph Hooker, who succeeded his father as director of the famous Kew Gardens in London, was said to have sat on a plant until it thawed enough for him to dig up.

Hooker himself brought home 45 new species in one trip to the eastern Himalayas and that was in the mid-1800s. Treks continued right into the 1900s with dozens more plants discovered in Asia.

When you start to see pictures of these bushes in full bloom, you begin to realize how easy it would be to devote yourself and your gardens to their cultivation. The explosive colors alone are enough to send even the most jaded gardener into raptures, picturing such beauty in his or her own space. From snow whites to golden yellows to blushing pinks to vibrant reds and luscious purples, rhododendrons never fail to please. Even for Maine, there are dozens of varieties in a rainbow of shades that can grow in much of the state; the problem may be in finding them.

There could be hope, if one doesn’t mind doing a little research and waiting for results. The American Rhododendron Society offers a wealth of information about rhododendrons and even sells an enormous variety of seed.

That’s right: seed. If you want to try growing some of the lesser-known varieties, you can visit their Web site (www.rhododendron.org) and view the catalog for the first time online. The list is tremendously long, and there are pictures of many of the plants available.

It is an intriguing idea, growing your own rhododendrons from seed. And what gardener doesn’t have that sort of patience to see a seed turn into a bush of great beauty?

I can see my property lined with the likes of R. ‘Boule de Neige’ and its white flowers or R. hippophaeoides and its lavender-blue blooms. R. maximum with its rose, pink or white blossoms would provide a good mix while R. ‘Narcissiflora’ would put some sun into the days with its pale yellow flowers. And that one even has a scent.

Dangerous dreams they are, picturing a yard full of rhododendrons, glowing with color and abuzz with bees.

Perhaps now would be a good time to mention that little problem with honey made from rhododendrons.

It seems that the nectar contains andromedotoxin, a poison that makes the resulting honey toxic.

Eye-popping. Addictive. Even stomach-clenching.

It should come as no surprise to find that the flower is the symbol for danger.

You’ve been warned.

Janine Pineo is a NEWS copy editor. Her e-mail is jpineo@bangordailynews.net.