Beautiful poem, Teresa. August is a bit quiet in the surrounding fields here this year. There are always quail families and an indignant jay that shouts from the privet --demanding I refill the birdbath-- but most of the critters have gone off to find water.
Thank you ... we are getting much needed rain, but a walk in the meadow is so alive with sounds, a million insects singing ... not to mention the birds ...
We're not nearly to our late summer -- not yet. That comes in September. But the poem is perfect, and reminds me of the red-winged blackbirds that will begin arriving in time: filling our meadows with song.
It is most definitely waning here ... I haven't seen the red winged blackbirds in a while, hope they still congregate in my big Norway pine before leaving... what a treat ... :)
" . . . the world's song rising from the meadow" Perfect. I took an early, misty walk around our little corner of the world this morning and this is exactly what I felt but could not say, Teresa. The crickets are calling and a few jays were having a conversation. I felt with a definite certainty that shifting of seasons beginning. Lovely image. Looks like a tapestry.
Thank you so much, dear Penny ... autumn is on it's way ... slowly but surely ... It is a section of Japanese(?) screen. could not find attribution for it ... but it seemed perfect somehow.
This is beautiful and reassuring. I've been listening to a lot of disturbing news about how we are destroying Earth, and the one place that can provide comfort is out in a spot where nature still thrives.
Beautiful poem, Teresa. August is a bit quiet in the surrounding fields here this year. There are always quail families and an indignant jay that shouts from the privet --demanding I refill the birdbath-- but most of the critters have gone off to find water.
ReplyDeleteThank you ... we are getting much needed rain, but a walk in the meadow is so alive with sounds, a million insects singing ... not to mention the birds ...
DeleteBlue jays can get kinda cranky. :)
We're not nearly to our late summer -- not yet. That comes in September. But the poem is perfect, and reminds me of the red-winged blackbirds that will begin arriving in time: filling our meadows with song.
ReplyDeleteIt is most definitely waning here ... I haven't seen the red winged blackbirds in a while, hope they still congregate in my big Norway pine before leaving... what a treat ... :)
DeleteIf we listen the natural world will always have a story to tell us. Any time of day, any season, any year!
ReplyDeleteIt is ongoing ... once we make ourselves aware it's a never ending song ... :)
Delete" . . . the world's song rising from the meadow" Perfect.
ReplyDeleteI took an early, misty walk around our little corner of the world this morning and this is exactly what I felt but could not say, Teresa. The crickets are calling and a few jays were having a conversation. I felt with a definite certainty that shifting of seasons beginning.
Lovely image. Looks like a tapestry.
Thank you so much, dear Penny ... autumn is on it's way ... slowly but surely ...
DeleteIt is a section of Japanese(?) screen. could not find attribution for it ... but it seemed perfect somehow.
This is beautiful and reassuring. I've been listening to a lot of disturbing news about how we are destroying Earth, and the one place that can provide comfort is out in a spot where nature still thrives.
ReplyDeletethe sounds in the meadow the other day were magical ... so affirming
Delete