Morning Glories

The heat continues but you get used to it.

And it doesn’t really own the land until late afternoon, when the sun rides high, everything still.

So the mornings are for enjoying, before the heat grows so relentless.

I start the day with a long stroll along our country road, at or soon after sunrise. Our three dogs lead the way, so deliberately at times it’s as if they are taking me for a walk.

One direction, our course leads down a shaded tunnel of trees overhanging the way, as we gradually descend the hill past timeline bluffs of chert, slate, then limestone. The other, a long ascent to where the road runs clear past homes and gardens, a pond and field of horses.

Either course, patches of blue and purple flowers, starred centers, interrupt the green. Morning glories, well named. I’ve tried gathering and scattering the seeds over the years without success. The vines have a mind of their own, take root where they want, celebrate their hour, then curl away.

Pass that way another hour, you’d have no idea what subtle splendor greeted the day.