The whole garden will dissolve, with its stones, its metals its pulps its seeds, its powders its branches, its waters... and as a torrent foams and glides, and leaps from green crest
light rekindles and waxes, fleeing through the parted branches... and we watch it shrink and perish, exhausting itself in force and color... fiber after fiber it will fray leaving nothing behind but blue, blue air, blue water, azure vibrant hue, of this gardens fabulous array.
Comptess de Noailles
Blown Away, H.C.Love
