Mornin' Glory

Happy Birthday Cuz . . . This one's for you.

Mornin' Glories Lookin' West

“Mornin’ Glory”

MORNING: the first or early part of the day, from midnight, or especially dawn to noon

GLORY: great honor and admiration; fame; renown; worship; adoration; condition of highest
achievement

MORNING GLORY: a twining plant with heart-shaped leaves and trumpet-shaped flowers of
lavender, blue, pink, or white

“MORNIN' GLORY”: when I was a little girl, what my dad said to me every morning.

The favorite part of my day is morning. I love to watch the “sun-rise,” smell the fresh air, listen to the birds, play with my dogs, drink my coffee, and look at my morning glories. I especially love it when we have had a rain that gives everything a bath and fresh outlook for the day. Where I live, those rains are called ‘5-inch rains’ . . . one drop every 5 inches.

I do not have a green thumb. I do love to dig in the dirt, plant seeds, and watch something grow. When I first moved here, I watered anything that looked green. That year, I had a huge crop of tumbleweeds. They were the only things that were green around my house, and I didn’t know what they were. Twelve years later, I’m still chopping at the tumbleweeds. When they die and turn brown, they produce millions of stickers (seeds) for next year’s crop. If you light them with a match, they explode with a fury. I know, my neighbor called the fire department on me one year as I was ridding my yard of the pest. But enough about tumbleweeds and my neighbor. Using those two words in the same sentence makes it a little redundant. (I HAD a burn permit ! )

My morning glories are my shining glory as far as vegetation goes. I can grow them. They have wrapped their tender tendrils around my heart. And everything else in my backyard. Morning glories originated in the warmth of the tropics, where they grow rangy and scrappy enough to be considered pests. Morning glories are twiners; they reach out, pirouetting in their predetermined, typically clockwise direction, seeking something to grab hold of. The plants are genetically programmed to grow and unfurl in one direction only. The rabbits love the tender new shoots and it is difficult to protect them from being nibbled on.

Every morning I enjoy a rainbow of color in my backyard. Some say that each flower unfurls only once, then closes and dies, quickly being replaced by another. The flowers are at their peak this week, and I know it’s only a matter of time when the foliage will begin to turn yellow and the colorful blooms will disappear. I will be left with many dead vines, but hanging from them are little pods full of life. Tiny black seeds, to be planted next year, to paint another rainbow of colors, to greet me in the morning.

“Mornin’ glory,” he would gently say.