Trees - Quotes for Gardeners

We'll dive into the earth together.   And if one day a wild flower
finds water and springs up from that piece of earth, its stem will
have two blooms for sure: one will be you, the other me.

Memories are forget-me-nots gathered along life's way,
pressed close to the human heart into a perennial bouquet.

We had lost all ordinary sense of time and place.  Those flowers that came new
to Lawrence, the fireflies at night and the glow-worms, the first beech leaves
spreading on the trees like a delicate veil overhead, and our feet buried in last
year's brown beech leaves, these were our time and our events.
When Lawrence first found a gentian, a big single blue one, I remember feeling
as if he had a strange communion with it, as if the gentian yielded up its blueness,
its very essence, to him.  Everything he met had the newness of a creation
just that moment come into being.

 Priapus, lively and naughty, aroused and outlandish, is the Duende de el Jardin.
Mother Nature is always pregnant.
Fruits, nuts, grains ... sex and food.    Flowers  ... sex and beauty.   
If it were not for the sex life of plants, we would have no sex life of our own.

 

So rests the sky against the earth.  The dark still tarn in the lap of the forest.
As a husband embraces his wife's body in faithful tenderness, so the bare
ground and trees are embraced by the still, high, light of the morning.  I feel
an ache of longing to share in this embrace, to be united and absorbed.  A
longing like carnal desire, but directed towards earth, water, sky, and returned
by the whispers of the trees, the fragrance of the soil, the caresses of the
wind, the embrace of water and light.  Content?   No, no, no -- but refreshed,
 

One can get lost in their garden and the rest of the world ceases
to exist, if only for a while.  Anger dissipates with every shovel of
dirt moved, pleasure is found in the simplest forms, excitement
is felt as each tiny plant matures and then triumph with the harvest
of the first tomato of the season. The love of gardening never
goes away.  Even if someone is unable to garden themselves,
they enjoy the gardens of others.
 

The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a
perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing
to it … you and you alone make me feel that I am alive.
Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have
seen thee and thou art enough.

Grow along with me,
the best is yet to be.

Gardening is a cooperative affair.   I am a
part of a neighborhood in which plants, dirt,
rocks and a human family participate collectively
in a love affair with place.

I have a garden of my own,
Shining with flowers of every hue;
I loved it dearly while alone,
But I shall love it more with your:
And there the golden bees shall come,
In summer time at the break of morn,
And wake us with their busy hum
Around the Siha's fragrant thorn.

Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law,
and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for
the brief hour of its duration.
 

 We grow great by dreams.   All big men are dreamers.  They see things in the
soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening.  Some of
us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them; nurse them
through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes
always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true.

I didn't know what narcissism was
until I beheld my own naricssus.

We are told that in Persia the tulip, whose blossom in its native
country is scarlet, while the centre of its glowing cup is black,
is used to express warm affection; and, when sent by a lover,
will convey to the object of his attachment the idea that like
this flower, his face is warm and his heart is consumed as a coal.

Danger and delight grow on one stalk.

The rose speaks of love silently,
in a language known only to the heart.

The pleasure of a garden are everyday renewed.  A garden is the
only complete delight the world affords, even complying with our
various and mutable minds.

After all these years I see that I was mistaken about Eve
in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden
with her than inside it without her.

                        This morning, in the Garden of Delight, love came gently on us.
                        Its sweet melody whispered in the trees, shivering the leaves.
                        Its fragrance wafted through the tapestry of flowers
                        And flicked the ears of the massive hounds,
                        While the white unicorn stepped daintily under fruit trees.
                                                             

Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets,
and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything.   Live and let
live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve
which flows on, pointless.
 

Another day it occurred to me that time as we know it doesn't
exist in a lawn, since grass never dies or is allowed to flower
and set seed.  Lawns are nature purged of sex or death. 
No wonder Americans like them so much.