Blue Morning Glory a Happy Surprise

Morning glories, one taking an unusual turn.
Morning glories, one taking an unusual turn.

Summer is over, but the yard still is blossoming.

This morning I got a bonus for filling the birdbath. As I put down the hose and turned toward the front door, I saw a light blue morning glory. That’s right, blue. I tried to do it justice in the photo above, but it was tricky.

Most of our blossoms are purple, some white, occasionally pink. This is the first blue I’ve seen, and I especially love the two purple stripes.

I generally let the morning glories be as long as they don’t interfere with other plants. I guide them away from the honeysuckle, for example, and out of the vegetables.

The hibiscus and morning glory coexisting.
The hibiscus and morning glory coexisting.

The vines were unwoven from around most stems of the hibiscus, shown above, and wound around the downspout instead. A side trailer of them weaves through the beaten-up white metal table, pink and purple prettying up the rust (a little).

My favorite winding blossoms right now come from the moonvine. Sometimes its tendrils seem to grow 6 inches in a day. To me the blooms are interesting even when they’re closed, because I like the strong pale green limbs that allow them to open and shut repeatedly.

A moonvine blossom just opening for the night.
A moonvine blossom just opening for the night.

Blooming life in my living room

This purple wandering Jew has been with me for about three years.

Here in mid-Michigan, the time for things blooming outdoors has largely passed. Sure a lot of people have their chrysanthemums, and our clematis and nicotiana have a few stubborn blooms. For the most part, though, the slow death of fall has begun, the leaves have largely dropped, and all color is disappearing from the outdoors.

That’s why it’s especially gratifying that my living room has been so floral. I have five plants in here but two — a prayer plant and an adopted orchid — are just foliage.

That’s fine. I’m a big fan of foliage, and have been known to choose plants accordingly. That’s why one of my longest lasting plants is a glorious purple wandering Jew that has been with me about three years. During the summer it lives outside, and the constant stream of sunlight keeps the leaves a beautiful purple.

This time of year, the light is less and so is the purple. However, from its perch on the piano, there is enough daily light to prompt the occasional small blossoms.

A bloom on the wandering Jew.











Another longtime love is my bougainvillea. This poor thing has been traumatized back to near barrenness at least twice, and I keep nursing it back. Right now it is rewarding me with its paper flowers:

Bougainvillea in bloom.












My great love, though, is my hibiscus. I was fortunate enough to pluck this beauty from Freecycle. A dear lady bought it thinking it was hardy enough to winter outdoors, then learned it was not, and would not risk poisoning her nine cats with it. I have one cat and took the risk.

The hibiscus and bonus Lab assistant.

If it is possible to be in love with a plant, I might be in love with this one. My daughter caught me staring intently at a blossom. I marvel at their intricacy and so I am unabashedly busted.

I find the pink tint from this angle interesting. It’s a trick of the light.
I stare for long moments at the folds and curves of these flowers. Nature is indeed marvelous.