Wednesday, June 30, 2010

jardin anglais

They were out for a walk in the park that Sunday afternoon, as they tried to walk in the park every Sunday afternoon, weather fair or fowl. Today they wore their splendid Sunday best, prepared for not only the walk in the park, but also for the luncheon and the afternoon tea and the quiet beat of late afternoon before cocktails are served. Their hats were garlanded with roses, their skirts rustled, they exuded the scent of peonies, as all around the gardens they strolled, waiting patiently to feed the ducks or admire a newly planted bed or watch children or the civilized variety float boats or children of the urchin variety turn cartwheels or immaculate poodles delicately prance along the clipped lanes, all the time filled with the chatter chatter chatter of women of many opinions and few fears.


clear nights of June