By Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.

Snow is a Four Letter Word

And so for that matter is cold and wind

Spring has been a long time coming this year.   I can generally tolerate the winter months and even the snow falls but this year has been a challenge.  The unremitting winds just intensified the cold.   It is April and it is dipping into the 20’s at night and the snow still lingers on the north sides of the buildings.

Even the late winter / early spring garden shows and symposiums brought little joy.   Though I must say that this is my first year attending the  Connecticut Master Gardener Association symposium and it was exceptionally well organized with excellent speakers.   But alas, when listening to the likes of Andrew Bunting, the Curator of the Scott Arboretum (Swarthmore) on how he created his home garden (read absolute paradise ) and Dan Benarcik of  Chanticleer on using foliage  for pattern and texture … I feel humbled.    My digging efforts (if they “garden” , I dig) are not in the same universe.    Andrew was on his third iteration of the garden in fifteen years.   Then again, he admittedly has spent more on his than he paid for his house – but oh, what heaven.  What I did take away, in addition to a huge sense of inadequacy, was the need to take risks and not over think it all.

Now if I could only dig…  please thaw…