September is the month of maturity; the heaped basket and the garnered sheaf. It is the month of climax and completion. September! I never tire of turning it over and over in my mind. It has warmth, depth and colour. It glows like old amber.

Winter sunshine is a fairy wand touching everything with a strange magic. It is like the smile of a friend in time of sorrow.

gardening is something more than a pastime; it is a religion.

September is the month of maturity; the heaped basket and the garnered sheaf. It is the month of climax and completion. September! I never tire of turning it over and over in my mind. It has warmth, depth and colour. It glows like old amber.

in February there is everything to hope for and nothing to regret.

While it is February one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch.

Success and failure, triumph and disaster. That is the rhythm of life in the garden.