The line was at the Early Voting station – the tree was along the sidewalk where we waited to enter the building. The beauty all around us was in full display here: maple trees had been planted near an unremarkable building that was fronted by an unappealing (and noisy) road, breaking up the inorganic surroundings with their organic exuberance. Looking up, I saw bright oranges and yellows against a cerulean backdrop…not just dull gray concrete and vehicles driving by. It was a welcome visual treat.
Morning glories make me wax poetic – something about the cheery countenances, the uplifting cornflower hue, the feeling they create that they’re smiling – how could I not be charmed by them?
I’ve noticed that they’ve changed with the transition of seasons, too: the big, showy flowers of summer have become smaller – but plucky – last hurrahs. I know that one day soon, they’ll be gone…not to return until summer. How I’ll miss them.
Inviting, yes…and uninvited. But no invitation is needed for this lovely greenery: morning glory vines just seem to appear along a rock retaining wall near our house, stunning with their early-morning cornflower radiance. A cheery flower, indeed, and a wise one, retiring (for the day) in the afternoon. That we should all keep such a schedule – an afternoon siesta might keep us similarly glorious!
And for the pedantic, I know rhyming haiku is somewhat frowned upon in poetry circles. I don’t care. The verse flowed, so I’m going with it. I am, after all, a rebel at heart.