One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

Springing Back to Life


From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim,


Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him.


Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,


Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:


Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;


They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.


Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.


Sonnet 98, William Shakespeare.

Comments on: "Springing Back to Life" (1)

  1. Ah, Spring! Welcome back, both Spring, and Greg!

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