Welcome to my zone 9a habitat garden near Houston, Texas.

Thursday, September 1, 2011


The beginning of September, a glimpse of autumn just over the horizon, makes us all feel a bit poetic, I think.  Not surprisingly, it has the same effect on actual poets.  Here's Helen Hunt Jackson's ode to the month.

by: Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)
      HE golden-rod is yellow;
      The corn is turning brown;
      The trees in apple orchards
      With fruit are bending down.
      The gentian's bluest fringes
      Are curling in the sun;
      In dusty pods the milkweed
      Its hidden silk has spun.
      The sedges flaunt their harvest,
      In every meadow nook;
      And asters by the brook-side
      Make asters in the brook.
      From dewy lanes at morning
      The grapes' sweet odors rise;
      At noon the roads all flutter
      With yellow butterflies.
      By all these lovely tokens
      September days are here,
      With summer's best of weather,
      And autumn's best of cheer.
      But none of all this beauty
      Which floods the earth and air
      Is unto me the secret
      Which makes September fair.
      'T is a thing which I remember;
      To name it thrills me yet:
      One day of one September
      I never can forget.

"September" is reprinted from Poems. Helen Jackson. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1892.

Let us hope that, before this month is too old, our yards will "flutter with yellow butterflies" and that we will have "the summer's best of weather" and "autumn's best of cheer."  I'm ready for the September change.


  1. Oh so lovely Dorothy!! I so long for a break in this horrific drought stricken state!! Dreamin of a cool and beautiful September with you xxooxx