6.20.2014 #171


“Now, when the meadows and when the flowers
With thousands upon thousands of colours
Paint the breast of the earth so bright all round,

Alone and thoughtful among the secret cliffs,
With a silent heart I tell over my regrets,
And through the woods I go, hiding my wound.”

– Pierre De Ronsard


Pierre de Ronsard, Pink Climbing Rose

Serendipitous (and completely coincidental): The Art of Mixing Vines

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