We had one of "our" robins return to the yard yesterday! I heard it's call while engineering the driveway river with the young firebird, and turned to call back. I do a fair robin. ;)
The robin was high in one of the sugar maples across the lawn (still under over a foot of ice), and much to my suprise it took wing in our direction, and perched in one of the tall white pines nearly overhead. Yay, spring!
The slowly melting snowpack gradually reveals all kinds of stuff that was hidden beneath layers of storms. (trash the dog tore into-she thinks it is her turf once it leaves the house, even going on 11 years of age, some things you can never teach them...lol)
Anywhere the ground is showing, it is underwater, or six inches of muck on top of water. So of course I had to post this other poem by RW Service!
Mud
Mud is Beauty in the making,
Mud is melody awaking;
Laughter, leafy whisperings,
Butterflies with rainbow wings;
Baby babble, lover's sighs,
Bobolink in lucent skies;
Ardours of heroic blood
All stem back to Matrix Mud.
Mud is mankind in the moulding
,Heaven's mystery unfolding;
Miracles of mighty men,
Raphael's brush and Shakespear's pen;
Sculpture, music, all we owe
Mozart, Michael Angelo;
Wonder, worship, dreaming spire,
Issue out of primal mire.
In the raw, red womb of Time
Man evolved from cosmic slime;
And our thaumaturgic day
Had its source in ooze and clay . . .
But I have not power to see
Such stupendous alchemy:
And in star-bright lily bud
Lo! I worship Mother Mud.
Robert William Service
Hans Christian Andersen: 'Møllerens Datter'
10 hours ago
1 comment:
Oh I wish that I had know you earlier in my life, just knowing someone who celebrates mud is a hoot as I seem to be a Mud Magnet. Even if I am in the humble hovel the cat will leap on me with muddy paws. There are not many women who understand that mud exists and if you go out into the wide world it will find its way on you. I wonder if I was a Wart Hog in a previous life?
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