Daily Garden Reflections

As long as the hummingbird had not abandoned the land, somewhere there were still flowers, and they could all go on.

And since to look at things in bloom, fifty springs are little room, about the woodlands I will go to see the cherry hung with snow.

A dragon-fly with beauteous wing is hov'ring o'er a silv'ry spring; I watch its motions with delight. Now dark its colours seem, now bright.

At the top of the house the apple are laid in rows, and the skylight lets the moonlight in, and those apples are deep-sea apples of green.

For when it is cooked and opened, it's so white and mellow. You forget it ever was homely, this useful potato.

The honey-bee that wanders all day long, the field, the woodland, and the garden o'ver, to gather in his fragrant winter store.

The monotone of the rain is beautiful, and the sudden rise and slow relapse of the long multitudinous rain.

Help us to be ever faithful gardeners of the spirit, who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth, and without light nothing flowers.

Grief goes out, and Joy comes in, and care is but a feather; and every lad his love can win, for here is April weather.

Welcome children of the Spring, in your garbs of green and gold, lifting up your sun-crowned heads on the verdant plain and wold.

Why do trees along the river lean so far out o'er the tide? Very wise men tell me why, but I am never satisfied.

Over the ferns where the rabbits lie, floats the tremulous down of a thistle. Is it the soul of a butterfly?