I Wish I’d Said It

photo by jparadisi

For the joys a garden brings are already going as they come. They are poignant. When the first apple falls with that tremendous thud, one of the big seasonal changes startles the heart. The swanlike peony suddenly lets all its petals fall in a snowy pile, and it is time to say good-by until another June. But by then the delphinium is on the way, and the lilies…the flowers ring their changes through a long cycle, a cycle that will be renewed. That is what the gardener often forgets. To the flowers we never have to say good-by forever. We grow older every year, but not the garden; it is reborn every spring.

May Sarton


  1. I was thinking of this today as we were buying the last of the mums for half-off.:) Couldn’t remember where I had read this poignant commentary on the passing of the seasons and the “reborning” of the garden. My mother once pointed out the new buds on the tree outside my bedroom window and pointed out to my angst-filled teenage self that all of us can be reborn. That particular season was spring, but now my fifty-seven year old self chooses to believe that any season will do.


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