Outside the day was perfection

Watching the bees Here are the words of the blazing day and the once beautiful arrangements. It was heady, was it not? The arrival of this brightest of days. Outside the day was perfection. Here a few few bees in the garden hid under clumps of cut grass. Why are they tucking themselves away? Or

I do. Do you?

Remember how your grandfather stumbled and then fell into the garden pond. You wore a suit, freshly pressed – a strange look from your usual garb of sweat and day creased shirts. I in a satin dress of peacock colours, never wanted to be conventional, but my bouquet was of white arums from the garden.

Is it worth it?

Grass grows to an unruly height. It makes the lawn untidy. Restore order, with its low rumble. First it breaks a Saturday lie-in. It leaves clippings to be swept up. Give it a few weeks, once more green blades will jiggle their blue, sun applause. — Over a year ago I was asked for my