. The book of months . ///,.//,, / /l:/ffKSfii\ THE BOOK OF MONTHS September was a month of mellow fruitful-ness in England, and I have returned to find mygarden gone rampant. Somehow, growth inautumn is utterly unlike summer growth in itswild opulence, as if the dear plants knew thatit was nearly time for them to go to bed, butWere determined to have one great romp huge nasturtium, like a boisterous school-boy,has sprung onto a Gloire de Dijon and is wrest-ling with it; a Canariensis, which I thought wasfinished, has played hide-and-seek all over thetrellis of the shelter until it met
. The book of months . ///,.//,, / /l:/ffKSfii\ THE BOOK OF MONTHS September was a month of mellow fruitful-ness in England, and I have returned to find mygarden gone rampant. Somehow, growth inautumn is utterly unlike summer growth in itswild opulence, as if the dear plants knew thatit was nearly time for them to go to bed, butWere determined to have one great romp huge nasturtium, like a boisterous school-boy,has sprung onto a Gloire de Dijon and is wrest-ling with it; a Canariensis, which I thought wasfinished, has played hide-and-seek all over thetrellis of the shelter until it met a wanderingEccremocarpus, which it instantly embraced likea long-lost brother, and the sunshine of theflowers of the one are mixed with the orangetrumpets of the other. Phloxes are still inflower, sunflowers have topped the garden wall,and the beautiful Sylvestris is vigorous with paleleaf and snowy flower. But—only fancy—thatvile juckmanni is dead! Quite dead. God for-give it for a senseless I& ?«. * ^a ^V M OCTOBER These golden October days! Every morningI stray out before breakfast, sometimes only intothe garden, sometimes as far as the water-meadows, to find the same glorious return of morning the least pallor of hoar-frost wason the grass, and the clean smell of the morningwas more exquisite than all the perfumes ofArabia. A tall chestnut had grown very sud-denly yeUow—^how delightful if our hair turnedbrilliant gold (it does sometimes) when we grewold—and the leaves were dropping one by onewithout twist or turn in the calm air, till a heapof unminted gold lay underneath the now and then there was a thump on thegrass, and the green rind of the chestnut fruit,split by the blow, jerked out its smooth andglossy globes. The chalk - streams flowingthrough the meadows were full and brimming—>stream of living water—and the long, luxuriantgrasses, grown to their longest, swam and dab-bled in the flawless crystal. How good it was to253
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