I long for the bulbs to arrive, for the early autumn chores are melancholy, but the planting of bulbs is the work of hope and is always thrilling.

 My girl Pearleen:



Across the land a faint blue veil of mist
Seems hung; the woods wear yet arrayment sober
Till frost shall make them flame; silent and whist
The drooping cherry orchards of October
Like mournful pennons hang their shriveling leaves
Russet and orange: all things now decay;
Long since ye garnered in your autumn sheaves,
And sad the robins pipe at set of day.

It's raining again.... and again.... Skies are dark and all the world seems grey and dirty.... I miss sunny days, I miss spring and summer....No photos again, so I look for some light memories....'Ok, hwere there are some pics from June... (03- 06- 2020)







































































































Sunday prayer:



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.

It's all a farce, – these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o'er field and dell, Because the year is dying....