Three weeks ago we placed the seeds in wet paper towels and waited from them to burst their seams, then I pushed my share into pots at my studio window. Now they are a foot high and starting to climb their poles. A month from now my view will be framed by morning glories.
Ah, what was that phrase I used here last Sunday? "The ineluctable agency of genes." A lovely word: ineluctable. That which cannot be escaped from. In the seed, the two-lobed leaves, the tendrils twining counterclockwise up, the blue trumpets blaring their sunrise tantaras. GATACGATACC. A window full of plants, and beyond the glass still more: bramble, fuchsia, montbretia, escallonia, willows. The morning, noon, and evening glory of burgeoning plant life written in a four letter code.
Another lovely word: ineffable. Unutterable. Too great for description in words. The ineffable, ineluctable agency of genes.