Cheerful Four O’Clocks

The autumn of 1944, Danny Wilson had completed his training Santa Rosa, California, qualified as a twin and single engine fighter pilot. He’d been flying the P-38 Lightning, which is brother Dale had called “a man’s dream.” Dan was about to begin processing out and was awaiting overseas orders.

The east end of the house on the Perry acreage, with outbuildings to the west.

His folks, Clabe and Leora Wilson, had sent a photo of the little house they’d bought on an acreage near Perry, Iowa. “The new place looks like it can be fixed up to look very modern with a white picket fence and all,” Dan wrote. “Just a little paint, a few chickens, a couple of four o’clocks in the front yard, and a rusty pump, cow, and corn patch in the back.”

When I read his letter, I could smell the clean fresh aroma of Four O’Clocks. I haven’t grown any for several years, but they are delightful little bushy plants. Native to Peru and cultivated for hundreds of years, this drought-tolerant plant is named for the time of day its flowers open –give or take a couple of hours. In Iowa they’re annuals, but I collected their round black seeds every autumn to sow the next spring.

I’ve been going through Grandma Leora’s diaries. She mentioned planting Four O’Clocks in one of her flowerbeds around the little house in Guthrie Center. I should start planting these cheerful easy-to-grow flowers again.