To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
~ William Cullen Bryant
I caught them in
It was bad enough thatall of my pecans
Now it looks like
there will be no
Lady Bank roses
They are lucky
they are so cute!
[pictures taken through
the dining room window].xx