... 8°f out, john and i made a little wanderabout down to manchester ... we stopped for breakfast, then visited longfellow's greenhouse so he could get a pretty plant for his sweetheart ... listening to the radio weatherperson once again predicting "up to two feet of snow and blizzard conditions," i'd special thoughts for all my nearby family and friends:
I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth;
Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.
At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.
The plains are decorated with
My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.
As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I
Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
The only eye of the day.
I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance
To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.
I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
But I look up high to see only the light,
And never look down to see my shadow.
This is wisdom which man must learn.
SONG OF THE FLOWER XXIII
... on the ride home john and i talked of the wanderabout to the gaspe we're planning for this summer, and, for the most part, avoided picture taking because, to be honest, we're just a tiny bit tired of this winter ...