Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
They are yet spectacularly glorious, those indefatigable garden beauties, the stalwarts of our garden beds, pots and urns, blazing with their zest for life undiminished, in all their gorgeous colours, shades, delicate forms and amazing variations - spring to fall.
They blaze with the confidence that only garden favourites can presume to assume. Reaching for a paler sun, accepting cooler nights and torrents of rain, nothing diminishes their spirited showiness and lovely array.
And then, there am I, with spade and snips, shocking them out of their splendid placidity. Excavating the gardens, the urns, leaving soil and the ruination of beauty behind. For, known to the gardener is the race against the garden's nemesis, frost.
Hurriedly, tenderly, each glowing plant lifted, sturdy stalks and heart wrenchingly lovely flowers composted, leaving small lumps of soil-covered bulbs to lay away in a dry sheltered haven, a precious cache of sleeping glory in abundant abeyance.
All to be resurrected in good time when the frozen wasteland of lovely white crystals that signify winter and that long period of imposed bleakness has departed, when the bulbs can be coaxed by spring's new sun, gentle showers and aspiring vibrant life to reappear and affirm re-birth.
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