Robert Frost

One of my favorite poems -- I find myself reciting it every morning this time of year as I drive to work.


Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

The picture is of Indian Plum (also known as Osoberry, and in my family, Sarvis) one of my favorite shrubs and the first shrub that blooms in the northwest woodlands (this year, in February!). Image from Every year I mean to take pictures of it, and every year it comes and goes so fast I miss it.