In what turned out to be my darkest hour, 1981, I glimpsed, in the
Newark Street Community Garden in northwest D.C. a morning glory fountain. It was just morning glories planted in a wire tomato cone. It was jammed and exploding with blooms, and the tips of the winding vines spread from the small end at the top of the cone out into the air, looking
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s something about those old roses, the ones that reveal their rose identity with five petals you can count. wonderful choice for the first flower you ever grew!
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