My Mom loved flowers ... when I was a little girl, I remember the myriad of Marigolds she planted. I remember them because of their strong smell. I didn't like to smell them but they were very hardy my Mom told me. I did love to smell the ruby red roses that grew at the edge of the house and how they made the most beautiful bouquets. I remember how we pinned them to our dresses, she and I, on Mother's Day.
I remember the fascinating Four O' Clocks because they knew what time to open their delicate purple petals to the afternoon sun. They were always on time! I remember the beautiful blue Morning Glories climbing and winding up and up the trellis by the gently sloping porch at the side of our house on dead man's curve ... yes, they really did call it that although no one died while I lived there. Those Morning Glories ... they were quite simply ... glorious! As I walked among the flowers at the Inn Above Onion Creek ... this week on retreat ... suddenly I saw beautiful blue Morning Glories and I remembered Mom ... again. She would have loved them!
