It seems like you could, but
you can't go back and pull
the roots and runners and replant.
It's all too deep for that.
You've overprized intention,
have mistaken any bent you're
given
for control. You thought you chose
the bean and chose the soil.
You even thought you abandoned
one or two gardens. But those
things
keep growing where we put them -
if we put them at all.
A certain kind of Eden holds us
thrall.
Even the one vine that tendrils out
alone
in time turns on its own impulse,
twisting back down its upward course
a strong and then a stronger rope,
the greenest saddest strongest
kind of hope.
A Certain Kind Of Eden, by Kay Ryan via 1
The Outfit:
1930s style dark floral dress: from a charity shop
Vintage 1950s rose head scarf: inherited from granny Kiki
Black sunhat: old from the high street
Nude pumps: old from New Look
Silver earrings, just seen: from Accesorize
The Soundtrack:
Sergei Rachmaninov: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini in A minor
All photos taken by me in our garden, using the self timer during the final gasp of our hot summer.
I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.
P.S. Not that any of us need any help with dressing and living well, but I found this recent documentary about inspiring octogenarian beauties absolutely brilliant and think you would too. Click on the link here to watch it:
