This year i'm losing my heart to zinnias. A few years ago, my sister-in-law had a bouquet of them sitting on the island in her kitchen. They looked so bright and cheery, i planted some the next year and the next.
Living in the north woods, it's only mid-August and September that the zinnias burst into the fullness they attain earlier farther south. Now, at fall equinox, with threat of frosts in the high ground, i cut a zinnia bouquet every day. Crimson, pink, orange, magenta, peach and one yellow. This psychedelic combination of colors from the '70s cheers me into thinking summer will surely last a few more days.