There's a hearty vine taking over the back patio.
I'd not expected it to make it through our dry and supremely hot summer. Though it has, despite many occasions of near-dead wilted leaves.
One morning, after a particularly difficult number-crunching, hair-pulling, over-all frustrating all-nighter, I ventured into the cool moist dawn. The sun barely having broken the horizon. Somewhat muffled, the waking bird songs and distant highway sounds. Fresh.
I rounded the corner, past the porch post and mass of heart-shaped vine leaves, vine tendrils snagging in my hair...
Unfocused, bleary-eye, I caught shocks of blue in my periphery.
Most unexpectedly, the vine had not only survived, but it celebrated with blue morning glories sprinkled throughout its delicate foliage.
Sweet.
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