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| Hill Top, Beatrix Potter's Farm |
| Photos of the English Lake District |
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| I went for a walk in the rain today, Though the sky overhead was cloudy and gray; But the grass at my feet was emerald green, And the leaves on the trees were glossy and clean. Sparrows were happily preening their wings, While a squirrel was pottering, hiding things. There were cobwebs in corners, like diamonds and lace; The raindrops felt cool as they spattered my face. Then, all of a sudden, the sunshine broke through, And a rainbow of yellow and red and blue, Like a paintbox path, climbed up the sky And the day had changed in the blink of an eye. -- Margaret Minter |
| Squirrel Politics Fur flickering twitcher of nibbling nature, Acrobatic performer and tree-creeping creature, A supreme perplexer and plebian entrancer, Nerve-end twinges, tweak that skillful answer. A crafty pincher turned suspicious planker, This crude campaigner fills an earthly tanker, And between shared dreams gained snuggling tight, Recurring rumbles lead to plots in the night. Tail traced capers trigger leak detection, Till nosey narrowing finds acorn convection, And quivering blinks on soil secrets sound, To ponder the future of contested ground. On propeller bearings, strobe selected to fool, Its contriving sensors engineer the safe dual, With lightning pulses that purblind new position, This nifty shifting bush runs rodent politician. -- John McCallum |
| Squirrels on Derwent Water From "The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin" by Beatrix Potter |
| Beatrix Potter's home, Hill Top Farm, where she wrote the stories and drew the illustrations of Peter Rabbit and his friends. |
| October Days shorten, I light my lamps earlier, I allow a backward glance, remembering The first shoots and budding branches; Take stock and gather thoughts Of birdsong and the first cutting of grass. Keeping a diary of planting times, An aide-memoir lest I omit A favoured friend who stays a summer, Earns her keep and sings sunshine songs Beneath blue skies and soft rain. Time has taught to plan is prudent, October's flowers wait in the wings, Yet their audition must be postponed While other plays entice, -- Author Unknown |
| Magical Place Come join me in my garden And listen to its music..... Hear the blue jays twittering on the branches, Long grass whispering in the breeze, Water rippling over polished stones And maple leaves rustling in the moonlight While the wind chimes peal...... Come join me in my garden And enjoy the ballet..... See enchanted frogs leaping, Soft cottontail bunnies hopping, Delicate butterflies prancing And evening shadows waltzing While the angels fly..... Come join me in my garden And paint a picture..... Capture silver dewdrops on petals, Golden moths on snapdragons, Dusk settling on tall blue junipers And fireflies colliding with fairy wings While the lanterns glow..... Come join me in my garden. -- Irene McIsaac |
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| What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower, We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind. -- William Wordsworth, excerpted from "Ode on Intimations of Immortality" |
| Lake District homes of poet, William Wordsworth, left, Dove Cottage; right, Mt. Rydal |
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