A few weeks ago we woke up at sunrise to find dozens of these open in front of the house. Right where we were just about to weed like mad. Later in the day, they looked dead. Closed. Wrinkled. But as soon as the sun set they cracked open to greet the moonlight. Every day they do the same. Tuck away in daylight and open up to the night glow. Man am I glad we didn’t weed these trumpets. When I see them at sunset or early morning, they offer a sweet reminder of the bursts of light we have tucked away for dark times. Beauty saved up just for the moonlit hours.
A few weeks ago we woke up at sunrise to find dozens of these open in front of the house. Right where we were just about to weed like mad. Later in the day, they looked dead. Closed. Wrinkled. But as soon as the sun set they cracked open to greet the moonlight. Every day they do the same. Tuck away in daylight and open up to the night glow. Man am I glad we didn’t weed these trumpets. When I see them at sunset or early morning, they offer a sweet reminder of the bursts of light we have tucked away for dark times. Beauty saved up just for the moonlit hours.