It is winter morning now, and the light has yet to return.
I'm waiting in the darkness before dawn, paintbrush nearby, for the flowers to open.
Underneath the snow outside other plants are waiting for different light to return, but here inside where it is warm, the glow of artificial light coaxes the flowers to appear indoors, that seem so reluctant to bloom sometimes outdoors.
I am writing of course, about Morning Glories, in the genus Ipomoea.
I have some growing in and around an aquarium and downstairs I have some in pots under a HID light.
I keep waking up early to see them, hoping to get a smell of Ipomoea fistulosa's faint and delicious cotton candy like floral odor, or to be able to transfer pollen from one species to another to see if they will breed. Sometimes I let self fertile forms pollinate themselves and then less than an hour later I cut the style to stop the pollen tubes from reaching the ovary, but the key has already been unlocked and I will take a dab of stick floral nectar from extra-floral nectaries so common in this genus, put it right on the cut end of the style and add the pollen I want to be the parent.
Even here under the cover of the winter darkness, every flower is an adventure and a magical event.
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