In the night ........

 

 

 

 

The Thunder roared

The Lightning flashed

and all the world was shaken.

The little pig curled up his tail
 

and ran to save his bacon!

 

Did anyone ever write this verse in your autograph book?

 

Did you ever have an autograph book, or were autograph books

a phenomenon special to the first half of the last century,

and did their popularity fade away with modern times

and the coming of television and other ways of entertainment

that require no creativity.

 

I have my Aunt Hildred's autograph book(s), circa 1920

and in one of them my mother wrote

 

"Friendship is a golden tie

that binds our hearts together

and if you never break that tie

We will be friends forever".

 

 

but I digress......

 

This post is really about the thunder and the lightning that wakened me last night

with such a shattering, earthshaking, earsplitting clap

that I felt as if I were about to be lifted from my bed

and transported through the window and up into the heavens

where all the noise and commotion and fireworks were taking place. 

 

Advanced warning had cautioned me to turn off the computers,

but I should have left the bedroom door open for Callie

to find refuge under the duvet at my feet....

 

I rose to go and look for her, but she was not visible.
Under the couch ?   Behind the piano?
I called, but no response.
However, as I turned to go back into the bedroom
a very frightened cat hurried past me,
hurtled through the air, diving under the duvet,
and we both spent the rest of the night with our eyes tightly closed
awaiting the next thunderous roar.

Eventually the storm passed,  the skies lightened with the dawn
and the thunder was only a long, low grumble,
and we both slept......

As to any pigs that were out and about, I presume
they found refuge somewhere where their bacon was safe.



September comes to the garden

Out in the garden this morning to pick the raspberries, and I am reminded that the grass I cut just a few short days ago (or should I say 'harvested' - it was more like a haying operation) - well, anyway, the grass that I cut just a few short days ago has responded just like a child's haircut and immediately gathered green energy, enough to suggest another trimming!

As I whirred along the side lawn I found the grass around the hazel nut tree heavy with petticoat covered nuts.  I didn't run in to get the camera, but when I had finished mowing and was resting and looking around the garden, it was plain to me that September had arrived, with cooler weather and a lovely flush of roses.....

 

"For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. 

 For nature it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad".   

 Edward Way Teale

 

Here is Mister Lincoln, top hatted in a gorgeous velvety chapeau.

 

and his companion, Abraham Darby

 

both fine and well respected gentlemen

who have lent their names to what

I consider to be among the most

beautiful of roses.

 

 

The ramblers along the side fence have been blooming for a week or so

and I have had to prune back their wandering branches

that used to reach out and catch Charles as he went by in his cart,

causing no end of consternation!!!

 

 

Mainly the garden is shades of yellow and orange - sunflowers, rudbeckia, yellow daisies,

Chinese lanterns, barn flowers,

 

 

 

 

 

 but the Rose of Sharon, a first year Foxglove, blooming late,  and some autumn Crocus join the last of the phlox and the porch pots in adding pinks and whites to the mix.

 

 

 

 

When I had finished cutting the small lawns I contemplated the little portion that lies between the compost corner and the pussy willow tree, and I envisioned the peonies, the iris and the poppies from the garden on the hill, moved down and comfortably ensconced in all their lovely glory.

 

Who will turn the sod? 

 

 And have I enough compost to make a comfortable bed for them???

 

I ponder, as now is the time to move them!!!!!

 

Oh, it's always something,  I can hear Charles saying.........but he loved the garden too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ABC Wednesday

September 3rd, 2013

The letter is H and it stands for Seamus Heaney

 

In Memory

 

Noli timere

 

Postscript

 

And some time make the time to drive out west

Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,

In September, or October, when the wind

And the light are working off each other

So that the ocean on one side is wild

With foam and glitter, and inland among stones

The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit

By the earthed lightening of a flock of swans,

Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,

Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads

Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.

Useless to think you'll park or capture it

More thoroughly.  You are neither here nor there,

A hurry through which known and strange things pass

As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways

And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

 

Seamus Heaney

 

 

For more interpretations of the letter H click here, at ABC Wednesday

with many thanks to Denise, Roger and all Helpers.