Not much chatter rec.gardens.edible. I suppose that, like myself, many
of you are hanging around your germinating seeds, looking for life, and
cheering them on. So, while waiting for the gray clouds to blow away and
le beau temps to return, I offer a thought for your consideration.
Thoughts in the Garden
. . . Here at the fountain's sliding foot,
Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root,
Casting the body's vest aside,
My soul into the boughs doth glide;
There, like a bird, it sits and sings,
Then whets and preens its silver wings,
And, till prepared for longer flight,
Waves in its plumes the varied light.. . .
Coloribus gustibus non disputatum (mostly)