Oct 03, 2011 13:40
Apologies for inflicting bad poety upon the flist, but words just needed to come out today, when I looked out my office window:Birds alight on the Rowan tree;
Its branches shake merrily at their touch,
As though it laughs for joy,
Its bright berries nodding their assent.
Crimson fruit, and crimson breast:
Dancing for the feast of it all.
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There's a rowan as a minor character in the first few Young Wizard's books.
I keep meaning to plant one. Our neighbors had one when we moved it, but it was actually struck by lightning. They tried to keep the remains going, but eventually had to take it out.
P.
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I've been enviously reading numerous posts today about the planting of things -- Rowans and roses and tulips (oh my!). I would be a terrible caretaker if I actually owned a house and tried to maintain some semblance of a garden, but I do miss living in a home surrounded by something other than paved parking lot!
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