The Sound of Trumpets!

Dear Diary,

Finally, the trumpet vine is blooming! These are the first ones. I photographed them from up above, from the bathroom window...a raindrop from last night storm still clinging to it. This is the way the hummers will see them. Oh, how they love the trumpets!

We had a large trumpet vine at my house where I grew up. Funny how certain details stick vividly in your mind while others disappear. Memories can be very selective I find. I remember the outside of the house even more clearly than the inside. Maybe it is because I spent so much of my time playing outside, building tree houses and playing in the woods for hours.

We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it. ~George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss, 1860