The first time we came to France in the summer we were enchanted by the banks of Oleander everywhere.
That which we regarded as a rare and exotic plant seems to grow like a weed here.
All attempts to nurture one to life in Ireland failed, the bud would form but fall off just before it flowered.

Here in Le Presbytere we are surrounded by Oleanders in flower at this time of the year.

These three are all grown by the town council in a bed which curls around the churchyard directly to the front of our house and they completely dominate the view out our front window.

This one is a relic from the nuns who lived here and is in our back garden.
This year it is struggling back to life after a bad attack of Black Scab.

This is my White Oleander which was part of my birthday present in March, it is struggling too but I think it will make it.