For winter's rains and ruins are over,And all the season of snows and sins;The days dividing lover and lover,The light that loses, the night that wins;And time remember'd is grief forgotten,And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,And in green underwood and coverBlossom by blossom the spring begins.
--A.G. Swinburne, Chorus from Atalanta in Calydon, 1865
14 comments:
Nice picture - I found a bird's egg shell in my yard the other day, too. Tis the season, eh?
The fucking red winged blackbirds are being hyper vigilant as usual during the spring. They seem to have a real problem w/ me. I sometimes carry a good stick and swing away when they swoop.
ndspinelli: Around here, it's mockingbirds.
Around here I am at peace with my avian friends. Never a cross word is spoken between us.
mump, Then fuck those mockingbirds as well.
Yesterday there was a murder of crows in the tree behind the house they are rebuilding across the street. The wife asked why they were gathering and I pointed out workers precariously hanging by one hand as they put up the roof.
The birds thought that there would be Mexican on the menu.
I saw some people signing @ the Oscars. Turns out they are involved in a flick that just won an award, The Sound of Metal. It's about a heavy metal drummer who loses his hearing. Might be worth a viewing?
As Pete Townsend would say "WHAT???"
Hey Troop - good to see you - how you doin'?
I could have used a link, but managed to find my way through to traces to come on a lisp of leaves and ripples of rain and locate another Algernon. The only one I'd previously known about was tied up with flowers and a mouse.
Hard to select which line I like after the post title, "The light that loses, the night that wins" or "And time remember'd is grief forgotten", as both connected to invite pause for consideration. Thanks for that.
Spring truly is happening blossom by blossom here in West MI, seemingly slow but moving along and getting ready to burst. The weeping cherry is out in pink, and the woods are filled with bird songs again. No diving birds defending their nests, but the oriole has returned, and the woodpecker that likes to use our chimney pipe to announce himself is back to drumming on it again.
You're right, MamaM; I've added a link.
We used to go camping in the Upper Peninsula when I was a kid. I particularly remember the call of the loons, and the wonderful Scandi accents of the locals.
Whatever you add is appreciated, Mumpsimus. It was the Thurber cartoon that slowed me down. While MrM likes Suduko, I like to sharpen my brain by following traces and clues to find something I hadn't previously known. It was the crabby mouth and the seemingly benign hand to the ear that made me smile before that link was made.
Thurber's dogs are the best in the history of the world. Or maybe among the best. Anyway, I like them.
That guy and his dog look like a matched pair! With Thurber cartoons, there's the punchline and the cartoon drawing, often with each offering something unique to tweak thought or consideration.
Yes, here's more on that
"It’s not the ink—it’s the think that makes a cartoon,” wrote longtime cartoon editor for “The New Yorker” magazine, Robert Mankoff.
That’s fitting with James Thurber’s style and what he brought to cartooning in the 20th century, according to scholar Michael Rosen.
“Thurber introduced a non-artist, unstudied, spontaneous, he would call them ‘scrawls.’ He was the first to add short funny captions to funny drawings.
https://www.ideastream.org/news/james-thurber-s-influence-on-modern-cartoons
As for the UP (as the Upper Peninsula of MI is called), it's a whole nother experience in isolation, hearty living and loons!
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