February 4, 2018. Today’s sunshine affirms my optimism that this incredibly cold winter will, eventually, blend into Spring. This poem has been sprouting since last week’s encounter with morning glory seed pods catching afternoon sun rays – shining, seeming to call out for a caress.
October 22, 2016. We have an explosion of morning glory vines alongside the house, so thick they reach over the walkway, tangling in hair and hats of those passing. Some so low the dog pushes them aside with her long nose. It’s a treat to move gently through the profusion. A broken stalks are bound to happen. One came indoors yesterday bearing two full blooms and multiple buds, plopped into a makeshift vase. The largest bud shows promise 24 hours later. (Image taken after mature blooms folded.)
