That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
It's always a good time to feature a poem by Shakespeare, but, during this drab period in which so few flowers are in bloom, stunted by the unusually frigid weather, it seems especially appropriate. Though the blossoms are scarcely to be found, these elegant words bring color to the gardens of our minds.
Well, the icy days may be behind us now. Today was nice and warm, inspiring me to head outside and bask in the sunlight. Perhaps the flowers will be soon to follow. ;-)
But, for this week, we can look at the few, poor pretties that endured through the dark days of Winter.
|Rose Garden in winter, at the South Coast Botanic Garden|
And here are a few vids in celebration of Joanna Newsom's birthday.
"On a Good Day"
"Sawdust and Diamonds"