And now it is late August and we are pinning away for missed days of sunshine frolic, garden-walking, flower-cutting, fruit-producing, scenes-adoring and soon the changing leaves and hues of late summer-early fall will be upon us. Where or where has it gone? We shall enjoy a few more weeks of garden bliss and flower pots of lovelies in the gardens and room-filled vases to behold them awhile longer.
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ANGELS in the early morning
May be seen the dews among,
Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying:
Do the buds to them belong?
Angels when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying;
Parched the flowers they bear along.*
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*Emily Dickinson, “Nature”
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