Moonflower, moonflower

I find myself humming Cat Stevens these days. "I'm being followed by a moonflower...moonflower, moonflower."

It was "moonshadow" in his song, but it is a moonflower in my garden.

My friend Susan Iglehart of Susan Iglehart's Flowers in Glyndon, Md., gave me a moonflower (Calonyction aculeatum) when I arrived at her home in May to pick up my order of annuals, vegetables and herbs.

Susan works hard over the winter to find the newest and best seeds to "custom" grow for her gardening clients. She sends us a checklist in February, and we pick up the results from her greenhouses in May.

(It is always a bit like Christmas to visit Susan. I never remember what I ordered, so it is always a surprise. And I always find one or two plants that I absolutely must have. And then she sends one of her newer varieties home with me, too. It might be an heirloom tomato, or an unusual geranium. This year, it was the moonflower.)

I tucked it in a spot at the corner of the deck, where the steps lead down into the yard, and now its vines and heart-shaped leaves have found their way up the steps and along the railing and into the bird bath that is attached there!

Moonflower is an annual tropical vine that is a slow starter. But it thrives in the heat and as the summer warms, it quickly grows, flowering around the 4th of July. It is like the morning glory in one sense - it is almost invasive. Deadhead if you don't want it to self-seed. (Warning: seeds are poisonous.)

Each evening, as I welcome the soft night, there are giant white blossoms to welcome me -- as big as dinner plates and as white as French porcelain.

The flowers are only there in the evening, and each bloom lasts only until dawn when it closes and waits to drop from the vine.

But every night, there is a new moonflower to follow me.