Nature’s Dance of Fire

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane
by those who could not hear the music.

- Angela Monet
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Life has a way of throwing curve balls our way when we least expect it.
I choose not to let them hit me, and I choose not to strike out.
I’m going to hit one out of the park and dance my way around the bases
all the way to home plate. I can hear the music. Can you?

For Tabbie:

Tangle

True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors,
or a clamor of tracks in the snow.

- Edward Hoagland

Gilded and Glowing

Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear,
and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.

- Charles Dickens

This wonderful orchid is from Tabbie’s collection.
Here it is catching some rays on Sunday afternoon.
Its scent is soft and sweet.

Vagabond

Tabbie decided to wander out into the garden a few days ago, camera in hand,
to face the cold damp wind which has defined our October this year.
I could sense some dissatisfaction when the memory card was grudgingly handed over with a scowl, but Tabz’ face lit up with a big smile when I asked
if anything pretty remained in spite of the near-wintry weather.
“Vagabond” was the puzzling one-word reply I received.
It took me three days to figure it out.
D’oh!

- Aggie

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There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame,
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

- A Vagabond Song, by William Bliss Carman
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~ Photos by Tabbie ~

Pensive

Summer ends,
and Autumn comes,
and he who would have it otherwise
would have high tide always
and a full moon every night.

- Hal Borland
________________

Summer into Autumn
A progression
As seen through the eyes of guest photographer JoAnn Kesteloot
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A Message from Tabbie

He is outside of everything, and alien everywhere. He is an aesthetic solitary. His beautiful, light imagination is the wing that on the autumn evening
just brushes the dusky window.
~ Henry James,
in praise of Nathaniel Hawthorne
_____________________________

Dear Friends,

I am unable to continue as the creative force behind this website.
My friend, Aggie, has graciously accepted my offer to take this blog
and make it her own. She will give it a bit of a makeover. Some things will change while others remain the same. Aggie’s kindness and generosity were typified when she told me that I would be her inspiration for this project, an inspiration reflected in the new name she has chosen for this place:   A Garden for Tabbie.
Thank you, Aggie! I’ll be tiptoeing through your tulips and your teasel,
your thistle and thyme, and likely I’ll comment from time to time.

All the Best,

~ Tabbie

_____________________________

High Summer

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been
the two most beautiful words in the English language.
~ Henry James

C’est l’été

I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay