The Rose and the Morning Glories

I keep thinking, with each new rosebud that opens on the climbing rose vine growing on our arbor, that it will be the last rose of the summer. I captured this pretty little rosebud last week and included it in a post called, Summer's End. Over the weekend, I noticed that it had opened, and I snapped these close ups of it. Isn't it exquisite! I also captured some pictures of our granddaughter Avery Grace's Morning Glories, that she and I planted back in the Spring. They are beginning to fade now, but still have some glorious blossoms left on the vines. Here are some close ups of Morning Glory buds I captured in August ... What an amazing and sweet little flower, and so deserving of their name. I'm so glad I captured the pictures of the Morning Glories for Avery Grace. She was so excited a couple of weekends ago when she was visiting, and took everyone to the back yard to show us her Morning Glories. There's nothing like sharing God's glory with a child — and seeing the joy in their eyes as they discover it for themselves.

Summer's End

I recently came across the lyrics to a song on a beautiful blog called, "The House in the Roses," which is written by a lovely lady named Cielo. If you haven't discovered Cielo's enchanting pictures and stories, I hope you will visit her magical House of Roses. I'm sure it will become one of your favorite places.

The song I mentioned is called Summer's Almost Over, and was written by Cheryl Wheeler. I'd like to share these beautiful lines ...

Summer's almost over and I'm crying but I don't know why,
Sentimental old fool, weeping for this blue, blue sky,
And the way the cat is sleeping and the way the garden grew,
Wagging dogs who lick my face and the way I feel for you.

Who could help but welcome autumn and the promise of the winter snow?
Still there's something sweet and wistful as I watch this lovely summer go,
But the sun is sinking sooner and the weeds have won at last,
With the berries on the bushes and the crickets in the grass,
Oh, summer's almost over and I'm crying but I don't know why.

Isn't that lovely! Thank you, Cielo, for letting me share it here at Southern Lagniappe.

I would also like to share a few pictures I took yesterday afternoon while walking around in our yard. I was thinking about the lyrics to that song, and found several signs that mark the passage of summer.

These are the last two lingering blossoms on our Crape Myrtle trees ...

Our Sasanquas are loaded with buds ...

They will look like this when they open:

I love the way this little rosebud's tip looks as if it's been "squashed." It's probably one of the last roses we'll have.

I think the faded rose pods are pretty, too ...

I captured these leaves on a Sycamore tree whose branches hang over our back fence.

They're almost as big as a dinner plate and are so pretty in the tree, but when they start falling in the flower beds, they're not so pretty.

I just happened to look into our cobalt gazing ball and couldn't resist capturing the reflection of an iron arbor in it.

I like this shot of the fleur-de-lis finial on the arbor, too.

I'm not sure what these shiny black berries are. They are growing on a vine in a tree behind our fence, and look like little glass marbles.

My lagniappe for the afternoon came in the form of this little emerald green chameleon who was playing on my glass butterfly feeder (you can click on the pictures to see him up close, if you'd like).

I bent over to photograph a fading Lantana bloom and captured a little bit of serendipity instead.

These little guys will be leaving soon.

Farewell, little hummers — Godspeed!

" ... There's something sweet and wistful
as I watch this lovely summer go."