SOU-A-GARDEN

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Garden Installations

on September 03, 2008

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Strange Times

I want to start by saying something that has been said a number of times before in past few weeks. - “These are unprecedented times.” The coronavirus pandemic has drastically altered our regular lives, habits, freedom of movement and norms for socializing. Remote working, distance learning, virtual gatherings, online shopping, increased screen time, in-shelter confinement, is the new way of life, no one knows for how long. Sadness, a sense of loss, frustration, anger, distrust, xenophobia creeps beneath the eerily in-control and calm social upper crust, waiting for a crack to erupt at anyone anytime. The focus on protecting lives of the elderly, individuals with conditions, or easily susceptible unfortunate people who simply can not escape the deathly grab of this mysterious, powerful, unpredictable virus, has lead to shoving all the children and young indoors, taking away their schools, playgrounds, extra curricular activities, simple pleasures and freedom, from them. They ar

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and all the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you; Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all, - There are none to decline your nectared wine, But alone you must drink life's gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by. Suceed and give, and it helps you live. But no man can help you die. For there is room in the halls of pleasure For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on Through the narrow aisles of pain. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)

Home Sweet Home

'Mid pleasures and palaces, though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home! sweet home! There's no place like home! An exile from home, splendour dazzles in vain! Oh! give me my lovely thatch'd cottage again! The birds singing gaily that came at my call, Give me them, with the peace of mind dearer than all! Home! sweet home! There's no place like home! John Howard Payne

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