"Now came still evening on, and twilight gray had in her sober libery all things clad."
(John Milton)
And the last of the sweet peas, disheveled, ready to be torn asunder for compost. Ready to be chopped up. Sad. But it's time.
"Silence was pleased; now glowed the firmament with living sapphires. ( Milton)
And those darn sweet peas. Staring mournfully out from their bed of dirt and mulch, as they are finally chewed up. I must be brave. But I will miss them.
"Wherever water flows, or birds fly, wherever day and night meet in twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds, or sown with stars......" (William Wordsworth)
"All this that love the sun are out of doors, the sky rejoices in the morning's birth.." (Wordsworth)
"The cry of gulls at daybreak ocean bound, always a wind is slinging in their ears, always they lean to catch a drift of spray, or reef-blown water tossing in a bay, or drift of ebb tide around salty piers." (Harold Vinal)
And then there are the cats. Those funny things that come to visit and dance around in the morning, and night, wanting to see, wanting to chase snakes, birds and bugs. Or you. Or hid in the compost bag and pat at things.
"What nature delivers to us is never stale. Because what nature creates has eternity in it."
( Isaac Bashevis Singer)
And there is still so much to prune and cut back, cut back and prune. August is winding down. Just hot muggy days left, where everything looks wilted and scraggy. The sweet peas are all gone now. The apples are ripening, the grapes are getting fat. Not yet fall, yet a hint of fall to come. "The sea is calm tonight, the tide is full, the moon lies fair upon the straits, for the world, which seems to lie before us like a land of dreams." (Matthew Arnold)
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