By the light of the silvery moon
There's at least one moonflower blossom each night, but we often see only the spent remnants, because we end our days too soon and sometimes don't begin them soon enough. The pot hanging from the long cable contains vines that have run all the way up to the oak limb from which the cable is suspended. There are now Grandpa Ott morning glories every day up and down the cable, and trailing nasturtiums are beginning to bloom as well. Pride of Barbados is beginning to bloom everywhere. The figs grow plumper. We have our own wild sunflowers, but none so tall and spactacular as those across the street. Sweet peas have all gone to seed. The vines have been pulled up and the seeds will be saved. Swallowtails are everywhere amidst the blooming fennel. Sungold tomatoes are beginning to produce. Each time that there's a cool night, the chiles bloom again and we have even more jalapenos and serranos. One delphinium remains, as do a few bachelor buttons, otherwise gone to seed. We didn't wait to see how much taller than ten feet the amaranth plants would grow. That's the name by which I've always known them, but, under another name,they're the much-hated pigweed. Bright Lights cosmos may be seen everywhere in the pleasure grounds, some yellow and some orange. Although the days grow hotter and hotter, there are still two colors of cyclamen, a couple of viola plants, and about one new clematis flower each day. Not one of these has ever been seen here so late in the season.