A Walk on a Winter's Day

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang...

-Willie S. Sonnet 73*

I thought I'd take a quick lap around "my personal garden" aka Norton's yesterday....

9:45am  and I had the place almost entirely to myself...

Which I loved in a way- but was also saddened that more of us aren't using this glorious asset in our 

community.

Ok..no soapbox today.  Just enjoy the photos I took.  And yes, peeps- with my iPhone.  Norton's

allows iPhone photography.

* Sonnet 73

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

-William Shakespeare