Tuesday, April 7, 2009

a thought during Holy Week

excerpt--

"Spring plunges onward, and yet the season seems strangely more patient than it often does here in mid-April. Perhaps it's the long light at evening or the abundance of fair-weather days recently, but a time of year that is emblematic of swift change has offered a consistency, a duration, no one really expects. The grass has risen through old thatch and blossoms have begun to appear on old wood, which reminds you that spring is also a season for dividing the living from the dead--the plants that can't revive, the leaves blown into drifts below the hemlocks, the old stems that won't bud again. Everyone is this neighborhood builds a brush pile about now, and when conditions look right, they set it afire, as though it were a pyre on which winter burned, the last purification before looking ahead toward summer."

from The Rural Life by Verlyn Klinkenborg

11 comments:

  1. butterflies dance 'ring-a-ring-a-roses' and the oriole sings here and there - what a wonderful time.

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  2. I was in the mood to light a winter pyre the other day.

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  3. Beautiful.... Here' it is.. still raining! Don't think anyone's told April it's meant to be Spring yet! Thank you so much for your comment, I appologise for my self pitying, lol. Sometimes we need telling! cheers!

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  4. Well, the hyacinths are attempting to bloom, there are buds everywhere, but today it is too cold to be spring. Maybe I should light a bonfire...

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  5. "..a season for dividing the living from the dead.."

    What a telling statement. Beautiful.

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  6. We are still waiting for snow to melt (and perhaps not get any more - please)

    There's nothing like a good fire to burn away melancholy.

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  7. What a lovely post. I love the "pyre on which winter burned" part best. It hold a promise of purification before a long warm summer arrives. How I wish I could master words that well!

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  8. Beautiful. We had just such a fire yesterday, and it did indeed feel like we were trying to burn winter away.

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  9. Sadly, we can't burn here, but if I could, I would. The neighborhood lost lots of branches from the heavy snow yesterday. Every once in awhile, I hear the small ones fall and hit my roof. I've had enough of winter.

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  10. I happened to notice this skinny little blade of grass poking through the barely thawed soil today and just stood there amazed at its strength. I wonder, can I be like that?

    How on earth do you find time to spot these amazing gems, read, work, post, and keep your sense of humor so sharp?

    WHAT'S YOUR SECRET?!?!?!?

    Sorry for shouting, but I really have to know.

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  11. Dear Kathleen--the other options are not very palatable.
    Seriously.
    And I have my moments of curling up in a blanket on the couch watching TV & Bridget Jones for the umpteenth time...:>)

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)