The Bright Incarnate Spirit Of The Morn.

Through The Dripping Weeks That Follow One Another Slow, And Soak Summer's Extinguished Fire And Autumn's Drifting Smoke.

The Glory Of Gardening: Hands In The Dirt, Head In The Sun, Heart With Nature. To Nurture A Garden Is To Feed Not Just On The Body, But The Soul. Share The Botanical Bliss Of Gardeners Through The Ages, Who Have Cultivated Philosophies To Apply To Their Own - And Our Own - Lives: Show Me Your Garden And I Shall Tell You What You Are.

Alfred Austin Said, "show Me Your Garden And I Shall Tell You What You Are."

Never Did Form More Fairy Thread The Dance Than She Who Scours The Hills To Find It Flowers; Never Did Sweeter Lips Chained Ears Entrance Than Hers That Move, True To Its Striking Hours; No Hands So White E'er Decked The Warrior's Lance, As Those Which Tend Its Lamp As Darkness Lours; And Never Since Dear Christ Expired For Man, Had Holy Shrine So Fair A Sacristan.

No One Can Rightly Call His Garden His Own Unless He Himself Made It.