Year of Grace, Day 32. Heavenly

All summer long I had waited.  The intensely blue ones were the first, followed by the reddish purple ones.  But the morning glory flowers that I had set my heart on were the heavenly blue ones, aptly named “Heavenly Blue.”  I thought that perhaps the mixed batch of seeds didn’t really have any, or if it did, they did not have enough vigour to sprout or compete with the rest.  I had sown them among pelargoniums, anticipating the sight of a riot of morning glory of all colours – pale and intense blue and reddish purple – among the pink pelargoniums with a blotch of purple in their centres.

This morning, the long- awaited, much anticipated heavenly morning glory has bloomed!  And what a lovely, delicate colour it is.  I woke up to it this morning, and it made this rainy day, continuing on from last night, a most heavenly and glorious one. If you notice, it has a tiny corner of reddish purple. An interesting dash of individuality. I am most curious to see what its sibling flowers will be like.

Miss Heavenly Blue

I am tempted to think Miss Heavenly Blue was biding her time to have the limelight all to herself. During the summer, with the pelargoniums and other intensely coloured morning glories filling the window box where I had sown them, her paler blooms might not have gotten all the attention they deserve. Now that the other flowers have spent all their energy and are getting ready to wind down, Miss Heavenly Blue has finally decided that her time has come to make an entrance. Against the hazy light and watery sky of a rainy autumn day, Miss Heavenly Blue is luminous. She is truly a heavenly, glorious sight on this grey morning, for which I am most thankful.

We are most definitely into autumn, and the leaves on the earliest trees to leaf out – the Amelanchier (also known as Juneberry for its small blue edible berries) and the cherry and the poplar – have all fallen. There are no Japanese maples in this neighbourhood with their spectacular colours, but there are a few shrubs that are making quite a splash.

The forsythia still has a few of its crimson leaves. The steady rain has made them gleam and jewels of raindrops shine among the yellow buds, which are rather unseasonal, as forsythia is more of a spring bloomer.  And next door, an ailanthus is calling attention to itself against the green hazel hedge. The ailanthus must have been dropped there as a seed by birds. Continuing the heavenly theme, it is also known as the Tree of Heaven.

Unseasonal forsythia buds

Ailanthus, also known as Tree of Heaven

The heavens are certainly opening up – they have been doing so since last night and are expected to do so all day today. I find it comforting to hear the steady sound of rain outside when I am snugly cushioned in a warm bed. On a day like this though, what I would most like to do is sit on an old-fashioned, roomy wingback chair with a blanket next to a log fire and read.  Alas, I don’t have such a chair nor such a fire, and I have planned to make some quince jelly today.

Other than these glories of nature, I am additionally thankful for a gas fitter coming punctually when he said he would. I am also grateful that the batch of quinces that I have simmered in the pressure cooker have turned out all right. Their colour is of a beautiful, deepest garnet – as I had wished them to be. I had meant to cook them under pressure for only half an hour, as I had never used a pressure cooker to soften quinces before.  I got so involved in my attempt to paint in the style of etegami (“picture letter” in Japanese), that I forgot all about them for rather much longer than that.  Thank heaven they turned out perfect!