Right around Memorial Day, I got to thinking about my college days. I was still living with my mother and father and brother in the same house that I grew up in; we couldn’t afford to go away to college. During the summers I had a job with the local railroad, and much of it was on the night shift. Which I sort of enjoyed, actually.
Anyway, when I got home after working nights, I would often notice the morning glories that my mother had planted along an old swing set. The vines climbed up along some strings that my mother had strung from the swing frame. If it was a sunny morning, the purple and blue and white flowers would be in full bloom. I always gave them a look as I dragged myself from the car into the house, carrying my utility bag, ready to get some sleep.
Well, back here in 2008, I got an inspiration from that memory: why not grow some morning glories out in my landlord’s back yard? He wouldn’t care; he might even like to see them himself. So I shleped over to the local hardware store and bought two Burpee seed packages. Then I found a spot near the back fence that seemed fairly sunny, and did some planting and watering. It was a bit late in the planting season, but there was still all of June, July and August to come, so I figured it was worth a try.
Eventually some vines started growing and I found some wood stakes in the backyard for them to wrap around. But it took several tries. Just as the seedlings were starting to come up on the first try, the people next door did some work on the fence, and the workers stomped out most of the young shoots. So I tried again, with similar results as they came back and put a new fence in. Well, I had just enough seeds left for a third attempt. OK, this time it worked. Or it seemed to work.
As July progressed, the vines made good progress moving up the wooden stakes. If it didn’t rain for a few days I would go outside with a plastic bottle to provide some moisture. Eventually, the 5 or 6 surviving vines sent out all kinds of side shoots and leaves that started wrapping together, which is part of the knotty charm of morning glories. However, as we entered August last week, I started to look for flowers. Unfortunately, there aren’t any signs of that.
As you can see in the picture below, there are plenty of leaves and vines, but no flowers. Without flowers, there won’t be any new seeds falling to the ground to continue the effort next spring. It seems that the plant doesn’t get enough morning sun; because of the trees and the northeastern start of the sun’s daily arc across the summer sky, my morning glories don’t get any sun until around noon. So I guess they just can’t find the genetic inspiration to put out any flowers. Instead, they put out lots of offshoots, searching in vain for an angle that will catch the dawn’s early light. It was a good try, but it turned out to be the wrong place for morning glories.
It’s too bad that many human lives go that way. You can’t help but admire the people who really makes it in the world; they have lots of grit and spunk and tell their tales of how they were kicked around and brought down, but they always picked themselves up and kept right on going. But there are plenty of other people who also did this, but their lives and their potential never fully bloomed. The stars just weren’t in the right place.
So, just a reminder not to be so hard on people who seem like losers and under-achievers. They might have thought just as creatively and struggled just as valiantly as an admirably successful person, but because of fate were always one bridge too far. For every Barack Obama or Warren Buffet or Bill Gates or Mother Theresa, for every athlete in the Olympics or performer on the superstar list, there are millions of others who had good ideas and wonderful inspirations and abilities, but just never found the morning sun.
Jim, Jim, Jim,
I think you are much too pessimistic. These vines look extremely healthy to me. Just because they did not produce flowers this year (and who knows? they may yet have a few) does not mean that they are DEAD.
These vines will come up next year–and I am sure they will have flowers next year.
I have had some strange problems with supposed-to-be-flower-producing plants this year myself. No flowers for some strange reason–or on one vine of clematis I have growing just five flowers and then nothing when the plant should be blooming all growing season. But I consider myself lucky because I was totally surprised when the plant sprouted this year with no help from me; I tho’t it had completely been killed.
So, I say with the healthy vines you have this year (and considering the goofy weather we have had–not warm enuf, too warm; not enuf rain, too much rain, etc.), I think you are extremely lucky to get the vines you have–AND you grew them from SEEDS!! I find growing plants from seeds much more difficult than buying already established plants and transplanting them. The fact of these vines having been grown from seeds is in and of itself a marvel–AND that these healthy vines grew from seeds that were planted very late in the growing season.
So, I say wait until next year: I would bet a dollar to a doughnut that you have flowers next year–maybe not as many as you would like–but flowers. And the year after that, I say you will have vines and vines of flowers.
I put in lily-of-the valleys eight years ago. Over the years I got a sprout or two–maybe one little stalk of bells and that’s all. But this year–following the pattern–the lily-of-the-valleys have spread like I would not have believed–but true to form for the year–few flowers.
I say your pessimism is unfounded. And I further say that your comparison to “losers and underachievers” is misplaced. Just producing the vines from seeds with the very healthy leaves is a triumph for this year. And as to “losers and underachievers”: I say who is to decide who is a loser or underachiever? Sometimes the vines and the leaves in and of themselves are beautiful and a great achievement–make the comparison to people for yourself and who knows what the future of these “losers and underachievers” may yet produce.
I say beautiful plants!
MCS
Comment by MCS — August 10, 2008 @ 3:01 pm
Jim, Jim, Jim,
I think you are much too pessimistic. These vines look extremely healthy to me. Just because they did not produce flowers this year (and who knows? they may yet have a few) does not mean that they are DEAD.
These vines will come up next year–and I am sure they will have flowers next year.
I have had some strange problems with supposed-to-be-flower-producing plants this year myself. No flowers for some strange reason–or on one vine of clematis I have growing just five flowers and then nothing when the plant should be blooming all growing season. But I consider myself lucky because I was totally surprised when the plant sprouted this year with no help from me; I tho’t it had completely been killed.
So, I say with the healthy vines you have this year (and considering the goofy weather we have had–not warm enuf, too warm; not enuf rain, too much rain, etc.), I think you are extremely lucky to get the vines you have–AND you grew them from SEEDS!! I find growing plants from seeds much more difficult than buying already established plants and transplanting them. The fact of these vines having been grown from seeds is in and of itself a marvel–AND that these healthy vines grew from seeds that were planted very late in the growing season.
So, I say wait until next year: I would bet a dollar to a doughnut that you have flowers next year–maybe not as many as you would like–but flowers. And the year after that, I say you will have vines and vines of flowers.
I put in lily-of-the valleys eight years ago. Over the years I got a sprout or two–maybe one little stalk of bells and that’s all. But this year–following the pattern–the lily-of-the-valleys have spread like I would not have believed–but true to form for the year–few flowers.
I say your pessimism is unfounded. And I further say that your comparison to “losers and underachievers” is misplaced. Just producing the vines from seeds with the very healthy leaves is a triumph for this year. And as to “losers and underachievers”: I say who is to decide who is a loser or underachiever? Sometimes the vines and the leaves in and of themselves are beautiful and a great achievement–make the comparison to people for yourself and who knows what the future of these “losers and underachievers” may yet produce.
I say beautiful plants!
MCS
Comment by MCS — August 10, 2008 @ 3:01 pm