John William Waterhouse Apollo and Daphne paintingVincent van Gogh Tree and Man paintingVincent van Gogh In the Jardin du Luxembourg painting
eyes, she felt her heart kick out, twice, so painfully that she feared it might stop; because in that indistinct form she seemed to discern the incarnation of her soul's most deeply buried desire. She forgot the Norman invaders as if they had never been, and struggled down a slope of treacherous pebbles, too quickly for the safety of her not-quitenonagenarian limbs, so that she could pretend to scold the impossible stranger for trespassing on her land.
Usually she was implacable in defence of her beloved fragment of the coast, and when summer weekenders strayed above the high tide line she descended upon them _like a wolf on the fold_, her phrase for it, to explain and to demand: -- This is my garden, do you see. -- And if they grew brazen, -- getoutofitsillyoldmoo, itsthesoddingbeach, -- she would return home to bring out a long green hose and turn it remorselessly upon their
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment