There is something about a zinnia…

There have been steady rains for the past few days… unusual, I am told, for Colorado. Made my garden smile.

I wasn’t going to plant zinnias this year. I know zinnias. My mom had zinnias, every Mexican garden has zinnias (they call them “gallitos” — little roosters) and they are so… standard.

But I am finding that I love the zinnias every bit as much as I love the dianthus and the convolvulus — that colors make me gasp when they present, catching me by surprise as I have not grown such beauties before…

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I have long loved the exotic. In Mexico I had clerodendron and dama de noche and alamanda (copa de oro). Unusual plants for me, and intoxicating.

But in my garden now, I find intoxication in the mere opening of a bud, be it zinnia, unraveling petals slowly, or poppies, who burst from their seed coat with a scream.

There is something steadfast and strong about a zinnia. This one has been open for more than a week, and more gorgeous each day, to me and to the bees!

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