The Forest Primeval...

When I was a kid in New York State (and City) public schools we didn't have to memorize all that many poems, but there's an opening few words that are etched in my brain:

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,

Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic...

Evangeline
A Tale of Arcadie
 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

from the 1893 Cambridge Edition(Originally published in 1847)

That's how I describe my garden, "The Forest Primeval," which has grown wild.

Gd willing, at some time soon, I will be able to have a garden of some beauty and control. Decades ago I did spend time and invest in my garden, but somehow, especially once my sons left home I just couldn't handle it, and this past winter I decided that enough was enough.