Coming home I saw "The Ginko Tree" was in it's full glory. I never seem to be quick enough to get a photo. This time I was determined. The tree is on North Main Street and only stays in color for about 2 days - then every leaf will drop off all at once. We always say "let's remember to get a picture", this year we got it!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It is mid-November, the temps are moderate - 30 at night rising to 65 or 70 each afternoon. Not much is growing now. The rye grass likes it. The only thing really growing in the garden right now are the Knock Out Roses.
This one is a shade of red. There are two soft pink Knock Outs that are still settling in this year. They are not wasting energy blooming. The flower beds have been cleaned out, pruned back, and put to bed for Winter.
Jack and I sat on the Porch all Sunday afternoon soaking in the warm sunshine. It feels so good. I think about it all week long - it me gets through.
Here's the front door. My wife enjoys decorating it each season, and people always comment on the door. We find it funny. Under all those leaves there is a grapevine wreath that we made twenty years ago wrapping the vines around an old wash tub that her grandmother had hanging around on the back wall under the steps.
It is funny how long we have used that one afternoon's worth of work, and how many times that wreath has been reinvented. The screen door sags and has some cracks - i guess if i was 130 i would sag and been cracked too.
Here's the house today - i don't know why the camera thinks it's Halloween. The leaves are still on the trees and the light is still good, Winter has not come here yet. The annual rye grass is waiting for rain.
On a personal note - we won Property of the Month. We live in a small town and they reward follks who take the time to try and improve their surroundings. We received a nice little certificate and letter from the mayor - I don't garden for this reason... but it is nice to have your efforts acknowledged.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Mid - Spring, wounded and bandaged...
This is the garden's magic,
That through the sunny hours
The gardener who tends it,
Himself outgrows his flowers.
He grows by gift of patience,
Since he who sows must know
That only in the Lord's good time
Does any seedling grow.
He learns from buds unfolding,
From each tight leaf unfurled,
That his own heart, expanding,
Is one with all the world.
He bares his head to sunshine,
His bending back a sign
Of grace, and ev'ry shower becomes
His sacramental wine.
And when at last his labors
Bring forth the very stuff
And substance of all beauty
This is reward enough.
MARIE NETTLETON CARROLL