Morning Glory. This is the flower for September. I grew them at the cottage for Georgia as this is also her birth month. I took a picture so I could draw it but never noticed that something else had to get into the act.
[It has been said that natural light has a way of enabling one's internal body clock to adjust and awaken the way nature intends it; and while the brunette has long been used to being flexible with the luxury known as sleep, Wednesday morning is the first time in a very long time where he finally feels fully rested, sated, and at peace. Eyes remain closed in spite of awakening of body and mind, choosing to relish in the comforting presence of Viggo's body against his own. A shift in the position, the feeling of skin brushing against skin serves as a blissful reminder of the milestone achieved the night prior, bringing a smile to his lips. There is a slight dip to the mattress but the presence of the eldest is still near, his body heat palpable even though they are no longer connected. Hazel eyes finally crack open, taking in the sight of his beloved, watching the way the golden sunlight forming a silhouette against the outline of his form, casting an ethereal glow at the man that Idris has deemed as his Saint. Eyes meet once more as the eldest places his phone back on the nightstand, and with it the eye contact is established.] Good morning, Viggo Ira Wolfe.