I like to go out with my camera in the morning when the flowers are just beginning to wake from their slumber.
The sun is busy laying stripes across my patio and fence. While also dappling the leaves of plants and trees.
The soft blue morning glory, which I’ve never planted before, is growing on me. It is a subtle color, much like the sky.
Darker shades of blue show up in the creases of the flower. Right where each section meets.
But they only stay around for a day. Then the morning glories fold back up and disappear. Like a circus that comes to town and at night packs up for the next town.
Above is the clematis flower beginning the day. The soft lilac opens up and then the flower is white. What a transformation. Like magic.
The white morning glory has a vein-like texture. As though it is made of human skin. It is delicate, demure and elegant.
Allium flowers are spiky and almost translucent. They appear to be shooting stars toward the sky. Such tiny, tiny perfect blooms.
The zinnia flower reminds me of fireworks somehow. Pointing toward the sky.
The petals unfold slowly, a day at a time. First one layer appears, then two and three. Until it looks like a woman’s ball gown with layers of petticoats underneath.
A garden in the morning is a special time and place. A peaceful time when the birds are chirping their morning song and the blooms are beginning to unfold.
When it is quiet and you are just beginning to gather your thoughts. While the beauty before you is something to behold.
“With the first gleam of morning rays, the garden is a prism of a thousand hues refracted in tiny does of crystal dew, a dazzling quilt of millefleur colors covering the sleeping flower beds.” – Duane Michals, The Vanishing Act