Beyond the Fields We Know: How Does My Garden Grow

Winter Reading

Winter reading means a comfortable chair, a good reading lamp, and a mug of tea. There is ice everywhere in the village, and snow always seems to be falling. After dark, icy winds howl down the chimney and rampage through the eaves. Indoors it is.

Selections at this time of the year are less fluffy, more history, folklore and science. The fondness for magical realism, quirky whodunnits and Belle Époque fantasy lingers, and I enjoy a good mystery, particularly when it is set in a faraway place. And cookbooks.

As in other seasons, reading choices often seem to make themselves, turning up in my local library, book store bargain bins, village thrift shops, yard sales and the little free libraries that have sprung up everywhere.

My thanks to the Muses for the kindred spirits who occasionally turn up at the door, hand me a bag of reading and ask hopefully if there is any tea in the pot. (There usually is).

Wise Words

We live in a sea of light.
Henry Plummer

The camera points both ways. In expressing the subject you also express yourself.
Freeman Petterson

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
Oscar Wilde

When we deliberately leave the safety of the shore of our lives, we surrender to a mystery beyond our intent.
Ann Linnea

It is in the words of carters and housewives, in the speech of blacksmiths and old women, that one discovers the magic that sings the claim of the voice in the shadow, or that chants the rhyme of the fish in the well.
John Maruskin

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Saturday, July 17, 2021

How Does My Garden Grow

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