“Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth”.
~Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871
“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts…
There’s fennel for you, and columbines; there’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither’d all when my father died. They say he made a good end”
“There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really. The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it.
Change the story, change the world”
“The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o’ the morn.”