A view of my parent’s country garden in the summer. I love the lush density of the flowers and the richness of the colours! …and yes, I know that these flowers are not all perennials but they come up every year and that’s perennial enough for me!
A tangle deep, wrapped in enigma
growing wild without the stigma
of replanting year by year:
perennials that know no fear
of frost nor snow nor deer nor rabbits
growing wild has been their habit
since a time long out of mind
toward the sun they turn and climb
over each and reaching high
growing wild beneath the sky
A small (5×7) watercolour of delphiniums grown by my mother on a card for her birthday. The title comes from a delightful A.A. Milne poem The Dormouse and the Doctor.
While the art and poem this time are not as directly related as usual, they were both created for my mother for her birthday this year. It was a special number so the whole family was gathered to celebrate. Here is Tom’s beautiful poem.
Somewhere on Stoco Lake a loon
is calling out in evening light
a giddy eldrich lilting tune
as autumn day turns into night
and stars pick out the velvet folds
of heaven’s fabric as it holds
the day’s brief warmth against the cold
that now across the land is rolled.
South down thirty-seven’s length
among the Farmer’s open fields
a night-jar calls out as it wheels
about on wings of grace and strength
as voices rise in joyful laughter
celebrating now, and after!