My older daughter has fond memories of a large fig tree that grew in a special backyard of her childhood. She planted this tree last year in a corner of my backyard. It's still small, but it's producing enough fruit to feed her appetite and her soul.
She also planted this tangelo tree, still a scrawny thing in its second year. All of its energy seems to be going into fruit production and none into the expansion of its own height and breadth. It might have grown larger if we'd nipped some of the fruits in the bud, literally, but that would have seemed like a lack of gratitude to a little tree that was obviously trying so hard. Maybe next year.
The gardenia has been blooming for months now, but the summer heat is taking its toll. This blossom, the brightest on the bush, seems faded in comparison to the earlier flowers. But close your eyes and take a whiff. The fragrance is as bold and fresh as ever.
Our neighbor planted the morning glories on the fence between our homes. The vines creep out longer each day, the tendrils reaching out from the fence and seeking purchase on the driveway. In the evenings I notice the encroaching vines. In the mornings, all I see is brilliant blue-purple flowers raising their faces to the sun. Glory, indeed!