Sometimes, it feels like the gardens sing songs. And sometimes, they are very short-lived. Like the day or two when a mushroom emerges and disappears.
I've been listening to William Prince & Serena Ryder's "Sing Me a Song" on repeat lately. It's a tender, gentle love song. You might want to listen to it as we walk through the gardens looking for frost.
Sing me a song babe What kind of song, babe? The one you hear when you look into my soul
I think that Marshall (the best kind of cat) has been lonely lately. Every time I go outside he comes over for a visit.
Sing me a song babe What kind of song, babe? It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just sing me a song
It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just sing me a song
Play me a song babe
What kind of song, babe?
Isn't it interesting how the frost finds the tip of each seed pod and blooms from there?
The one that feels the closest to my touch
On the sedums it looks like each ice shard was extruded.
Play me a song babe
What if I get it wrong, babe? It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just play me a song
It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just play me a song
So short-lived. The song of the frost doesn't wait. You need to step outside, pay attention and freeze your fingers off.
And I could play this guitar without any strings I could sing for hours about everything And that'd be alright by me I could play this guitar without any strings And I could sing for hours about everything And that'd be alright by me
Pay attention.
Do you see the different shapes? Like tiny butterfly ice sculptures.
So sing me a song babe What kind of song, babe? The one you hear when you look into my soul
Sing me a song babe
What kind of song, babe?
It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long
Just sing me a song
Sadly, our gardens' songs are nearly over for the year.
It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just sing me a song
It ain't gotta be good, it ain't gotta be long Just sing me a song
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