Several summers ago I was wandering the gardener's department at *K-Mart* and a particular packet of seeds caught my eye, the name of which created a memory from my childhood. Four O'clocks. The name alone sounds romantic and reminds me of afternoon tea under a shade tree.
During the day you will find them tightly closed, sleeping. But toward the late afternoon, they begin to unfurl.
Rose and I were admiring the beginnings of their performance one afternoon. My flowers do not actually begin to open until after supper... I would say a bit beyond four 0'clock.
That night I was in bed, reading and I remembered my intentions of seeing the blooms opened. It was that time of evening that the light is hiding just around the edges, everything softly closing down for the day. I stole outside in my nightgown.
The party was in progress but I did not hang around long enough to witness it in full swing. I felt as a peeping tom, even though there were no audible complaints.
