The gardenia bush near the front door is filled with fragrant blossoms of an immaculate white. The passerby is invited to linger and enjoy the wonderful scent they exude. The Japanese poet Basho used to spend hours in morning-glory watching. There is always the temptation to cut some blossoms and bring them indoors. Another Japanese poet, Buson, wrote of the knife hesitating before cutting a flower. Like the morning-glory, gardenias last but a little while before browning and fading. The impermanence of the chrysanthemums prompted Basho to reflect sadly that the flower, too, was not his friend.