Thursday, August 6, 2009

A transfigured window-sill

Believe it or not, this is going to be one occasion when I keep absolutely quiet and let the photos speak for themselves.

Do you remember how I told you about the Morning Glory seeds that I'd planted in a pot on the window-sill?

Do you remember the struggling seedlings . . . and my grandiose dreams . . . ?

Well . . . all on their own, they did it! I claim not an ounce of credit. How could a mere mortal claim credit for such ethereal beauty?

I now understand why they're known as Morning Glory. Each bloom lasts for no longer than a few hours. They open in the morning and, by the afternoon, they are already on the wane.

But . . . oh, what glorious, breath-taking (albeit brief) lives they live!

That's enough from me . . . now, sit back and enjoy . . .

See what I mean . . . ?

And another one . . .

How could mere words have done justice to that . . . ?