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.

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

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

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

In looking back we remember only the triumphant consummations of each season. Failures and frustrations are forgotten; garden-memories are as perfect as garden-hopes.

This is the divine moment when we can hold the fairest blossom of spring in one hand and the sweetest flowers of early summer in the other.

Every noble achievement is a dream before it is a reality just as the oak is an acorn before it is a tree.