Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Spring Appreciation

Loveliest of Trees
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
A.E. Housman
I happened upon this poem the other day and it spoke to me. Spring is certainly here and I feel a need to notice it this year. Maybe it's the artist in me waking up and finally learning how to see, maybe it's because my grey hair seems more prominent this year, I don't know, but I am just loving the blossoming spring outside my door. I never dreamed I'd ever derive such pleasure from watching a simple sparrow flit about under a bush going about her business. I can't wait until the apple trees bloom in the orchard. Does this mean I'm becoming an old lady? Maybe so. So I've decided that television can wait. Celebrity gossip can wait. Even (gasp!) the computer can wait. But spring won't wait. It will march right along and get lost inside summer. And I for one don't want to miss it.

5 comments:

Florrie said...

Spring does get forgotten but it really is a time for renewal and rebirth. So perhaps your creative side is feeling this and responding.Enjoy. Grey hair simply means more wisdom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gumbo Lily said...

Angie,
Oh my! This poem really spoke to me. I really am a lover and watcher of all things nature so I do feel your sensativity to blooming things and the sparrow hopping about her business. My kids think I'm a little kooky because I thrill to the sound of the arrival of the first meadowlarks and robins and Killdeer. Maybe you do have to be a little bit older (and wiser) to appreciate the beauty of nature around you. My hair is also getting more silver this year, but I'm just going to go with the flow and consider that I earned them all.

Fifty springs left to watch and adore? That hardly seems enough for me (I will be 95 by then). I have never thought about it like that. Thank you for posting the poem and your thoughts.

Right with you,
Jody

countrymouse said...

My oldest and I talked on the phone the other day. I told him I could smell spring because some of the trees around us are in full bloom. I could practically *hear* his memories : ) He misses home in the spring. He misses the orchard next door in bloom. He misses his garden. I miss him . . .

Mary said...

What a lovely poem!

It's certainly not a secret that I'm dreadfully homesick for New England much of the time, but during the spring that lessens somewhat. It's unbelievably beautiful here in the spring.

Thanks for reminding me to take a clear look around and enjoy the spring!

Linda said...

Hi Angie,
I am responding to your comment on my blog about the hat for your sister. I will do my best to walk you through this. My email is morantribe at gmail.com. I have the pattern ready to send to you (can't find an email for you!) and I will try to create a tutorial if need be. I look forward to hearing from you.