Every year, I visit greenhouses and local nurseries to find plants that have different textures. Drawn to fuzzy, plump or spiky foliage with fragrant blossoms. Using my fingers, I gently explore each plant for changes. This year, my choices included a small sweet potato vine. I planted in a middle of a 20 by 20 foot garden space. Next to the plant, John placed a small trellis to encourage the potato to climb. On the far side of the garden , next to the fencing, small gourd seeds were scattered. By the back porch, morning glories planted in a row. Strings were tied from the railing to encourage the plants to climb.
I looked at the small clusters of green thinking, “this will never cover the area.”
By August, The gourd seeds sprouted and climbed up the fence and over the wall for 20 feet. The small potato plant had spread to the corner of the garden. Morning glories twisted vines to cover the hand rails on the porch. To enter the garden, I had to break vine ends that wrapped around the opening. The garden was a jungle of greens. Only the orange gourds bloomed. I felt for a purple white or a rosy bloom on the potato and morning glories. From my reading, I found that morning glories, a close relative of sweet potatoes were poisonous. I worried that if they produced flowers at the same time the potatoes may become toxic.
This morning, the gourds have escaped the garden boundary to sink roots into the cement bird bath for water. There are two more months to grow.
In the meanwhile, “Sweet potato pie anyone?” “You can have the first bite.”
***. poem
The jungle
It started small, in the spring.
There was room for everything.
In circles, planted bulbs and seeds.
All in order, free of weeds.
With fertilizer, water and sun the garden grew.
Climbing high plantings in colored hues.
growth across entrance barring me, not amused.
No space to move.
Can’t side step.
You know the rest.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 8/18/25
traveling up and down the blind highway 