Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Sunday, 11 May 2008
Down the road, evening
Everything glows: bright yellow broom and buttercups, and greenfinch wings which break from a dereliction of forget-me-nots, pale redgold sorrel roadsides, the misty exhalation of spring wheatfield. May is exploding.
2 comments:
Anonymous
said...
I think your May must be more akin to our June. There's a song from the Rogers and Hammerstein musical "Oklahoma" that captures it: "June is Busting Out all Over."
Know it well, Dave; Tom sings it quite often, sometimes replacing June with the name of some buxom female...
The dereliction of forget-me-nots is a poignant story; it's the deserted garden of an old chap who died a year or two ago; he was quite a strict but devoted gardener, since he died the forget-me-nots have largely taken over. I must say I rather like them, but obey their injunction and remember the old man.
2 comments:
I think your May must be more akin to our June. There's a song from the Rogers and Hammerstein musical "Oklahoma" that captures it: "June is Busting Out all Over."
I love "a dereliction of forget-me-nots."
Know it well, Dave; Tom sings it quite often, sometimes replacing June with the name of some buxom female...
The dereliction of forget-me-nots is a poignant story; it's the deserted garden of an old chap who died a year or two ago; he was quite a strict but devoted gardener, since he died the forget-me-nots have largely taken over. I must say I rather like them, but obey their injunction and remember the old man.
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