I’m in the middle of having six days off from work — what the kids call a “staycation.” Blissful staying home, working on projects, staring at the birds, puttering in the garden. I’ve reached that small, still, happy place. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I ran across this poem this morning:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
Beautiful early Audubon drawing (www.audubonmagazine.org) of a red-winged blackbird. I saw one at my feeder for the first time!