hortus conclusus

Sometimes the world is too much with us. Like when our oceans are pouring black blood , and uncomprehending animals are caught in a dark tide that ends their world, not with a bang but a whimper. we feel we can do nothing but suffer with them, as the gorge rises in our throats like that black bile coming from the hellish belly of the earth. NO human effort seems worthwhile in such an atmosphere of despair. Certainly no aesthetic enjoyment should be contemplated. Who are we to laugh, to smile, to think even, when we have perpetrated such horrors? But yet, there is still love, and maybe there is hope, though I doubt it very much….. On days like these, when the wind blows and the rain falls, as if sympathetic to our bootless despair, there is nothing to do but cry for a lost world. But yet , there is still George Harrison, singing his heartbreakingly lovely “I Live For you,” the most melancholy yet gorgeous love song of all time. But yet , there is the enormously...

  First, a reminder to enter in the drawing for a Tauer Perfumes Discovery set HERE Enjoying a G & T on our pack patio last nig ht while my husband barbecued, I saw a hilarious thing. This little chipmunk was sitting, as still as can be, on my terracotta statuette of St. Francis of Assisi. Now, as you all probably know, St Francis is the patron saint of animals. The first real Western environmentalist, so to speak. So I thought it was pretty funny that this little creature chose to perch on the saint’s head as sanctuary from my cat Oliver, who was regarding the little chipmunk with, shall we say, an interested eye. Saint Francis must have been doing his job, for no great bloody drama ensued. I have been enjoying my little garden lately. It’s nothing special, but it’s mine, and things have been blooming like the dickens lately. The herbs—lavender, thyme, oregano, chives, tarragon, basil, dill, smell fabulous, as do the geranium leaves, the little roses, and the dirt i...