Garden Chores Await

                                         

 Remington the Horticulturist ~ Charles Wysocki

 

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"Spring flowers are long since gone.

Summer's bloom hangs limp on every terrace.

The gardener's feet drag a bit on the dusty path and the hinge in his back is full of creaks."-

~Louise Seymour Jones

Serenity

View of the local dam in my hometown. Autumn in England.

 

 

 

 

 

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,--
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

 

William Shakespeare "King Richard II", Act 2 scene 1 

 

 

Rain-Less

The lack of rain in our fair city is causing the pastures to turn yellow.

The trees are stressed beyond measure, and I fear there will be a lot of replanting taking place in the early spring.

Burn bans have been issued across the state, but a careless cigarette tossed from a car window, can ignite a field fire and destroy hundreds of acres, in the process.

 

 

There is a stillness in the air, a slowing-down of sorts.

Nights are closing in fast, and darkness falls before the clock strikes seven.

Candlelight glows.