is inevitably the autumn retired in a monastery garden. Autumn wreath and decorative gourds have taken the place of summer flowers. In the bowl at the front door now, a small permanent Heuchera and a variegated Oktoberle are retracted. The "Palace Purple" seedling has broken the shell and was almost released into the wild. He is now the "Marbled Gallica feet.
now gradually entering a time that is not mine. When the sun disappears, I stretch myself hard. The first cold days and nights are over and a hot cup of tea you're looking for a bit overcast in these dreary days. One thinks of the fleeting year after looking around and you come across autumn poems. Many, I feel as dark and heavy, but the poem "The Autumn" by Johann Heinrich Voss (1751 - 1826) liked it, especially the last verse, I found a wonderful place:
nature as beautiful in every dress!
also still in the shroud as well!
She mixes in gentle melancholy joy.
smiles and watery even while walking.
smiles and watery even while walking.
You, dead leaves, the niederschauert,
flowers whisper to you,: Do not grieve!
We will rise again more beautiful!
While walking through the monastery gardens are found then the bright spots that illuminate the dreary time. Nature provides plenty of supplies next year.
While Hosta tardiflora, which also fall-Funkie is called, has yet to be
and the grasses are adorned with ears of corn,
are the flowers of the forest sage on offense.
Some roses have buds yet, "The Fairy", the good faithful soul, the moment still gives me flowers.
sprout new leaves between the offense.
And some flowers to shine even in the convent garden.
Future flowers are emerging. be
May the little guy bright spot in gloomy days.
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