It's a gloomy rainy dark day, and our State, Maryland, is going into lockdown again, due to the uptick in COVID cases.
The big convent where I live is almost completely locked down as of today, because one sister and one employee have tested positive. We're so afraid of transmitting it to our very frail elderly sisters in their 90's. But on this dark afternoon, the place seems like a tomb.
Here are some gardening words from Henri Frederic Amiel:
"Walked
for half an hour in the garden. A fine rain was falling, and the
landscape was that of autumn. The sky was hung with various shades of
gray, and mists hovered about the distant mountains - a melancholy
nature. The leaves were falling on all sides like the last illusions of
youth under the tears of irremediable grief. A brood of chattering birds
were chasing each other through the shrubberies, and playing games among the
branches, like a knot of hiding schoolboys. Every landscape is, as it
were, a state of the soul, and whoever penetrates into both is astonished to
find how much likeness there is in each detail."
- Henri Frederic Amiel
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