Fragrant Quote for August 26th, 2012-The borderland of country life By Augusta Larned

Of all country delights there is none so refreshing, so blissful, so renewing as sleep. No wonder thousands of harassed, hot, perspiring city men make a journey of from twenty to forty miles daily, just to get a good night's rest in the pure country air, where the absolute quietude and peace soothes and heals exasperated nerves and weary brains.

Who would not celebrate these delicious cool nights, when little touches of freshness and fragrance fill the air, to make one dream of beds of thyme and old-fashioned gardens, scented with lavender and rosemary, and, oblivious of age, if you are old, carry you back to the days of childhood and youth? Mysteriously the moonbeams enter, gliding in with the odors of growing things, all the subtle influences the night liberates and sets afloat. The moonbeams steal through the curtains and quiver on the floor. Then softly, gently, you are lifted from your base in the reality of all familiar things in the room, the murmuring wind, the rustle of young leaves, the peeping of young birds uneasily in the nest, the flutter of an insect's wings against the pane, the piping of frogs. Something takes you up soundlessly and shoves your little bark into the unknown river of dreams.

The moon has not completed its journey when you awake. It hangs white and wan in the heavens. But the merry light of the spring morning shines in at your eastern window, and the bluebirds, robins, and song sparrows are all trilling together. You rub your eyes and say, "Ah, what a good, what a blessed sleep, watched over and guarded by the angel of the dark."