the glitter is the gold

saturday was such a day of days. i don’t even know how to describe it properly … except that i was filled to the brim with joy and felt utterly alive.

among other things i went on a garden tour that included private houses near ward parkway, one of the wealthier areas of kansas city. the first garden i visited surrounded a house that was built in the 1910s. it had beautiful art nouveau stained glass windows and floral scrollwork carved into the limestone. i nearly cried when i realized that type of house could not be built today because the craftsmanship almost no longer exists.

i don’t think i’ve had such an emotional reaction to architecture since we visited tintern abbey the summer before i started university.

it was a glorious day.

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then i visited the rose garden at loose park near the plaza. oh! it was unspeakably wonderful.

among all the varied things i intend to do in heaven i think i shall grow roses.

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by the time i finished with the roses (which was actually much too short a visit) and was walking back over the fields to my car, i wanted to shout innocent smith’s anthem from manalive at the top of my lungs to whoever would listen.

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all is gold that glitters —
tree and tower of brass; 
rolls the golden evening air 
down the golden grass. 
kick the cry to jericho, 
how yellow mud is sold, 
all is gold that glitters, 
for the glitter is the gold.

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i didn’t. perhaps i should have.

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