Simplicity

An arrowhead. Filled my pockets with acorns. Found another gouge on Dennis's Hill. To have found the Indian gouges, and tasted sweet acorns, -- is that not enough for one afternoon? October 8, 1851 HDT

Thinking of Thoreau...

I love this one by Thoreau.. This evokes so many emotions, memories, and thoughts. From childhood to present day. "The hunters horn awakes the dawn" takes me back to my room as a teenager hearing the sounds of gunshot and the honking of the geese flying over the refuge near my parents home. Laying on on the bed wondering, 'did you escape the hunter?'The last time I was at Walden I was watching the fish just under the surface of the water glide from side to side. "Far in the wood the traveller dreams" brings thoughts of my trip this summer. Absolutely my favorite line being the incurable traveller that I am. "I melt I flow"..thanks Henry. 

A Winter and Spring Scene

The willows droop, 

The alders stoop, The pheasants group,

Beneath the snow;

The fishes glide

From side to side

In the clear tide,

The ice below.

The ferret weeps,

The marmot sleeps,

The owlet keeps,

In his snug nook.

The rabbit leaps,

The mouse out-creeps,

The flag out-peeps,

Beside the brook.

The snow-dust falls,

The otter crawls,

The partridge calls

Far in the wood;

The traveller dreams,

The tree ice-gleams,

The blue jay screams,

In angry mood.

The apples thaw,

The ravens caw,

The squirrels gnaw

The frozen fruit;

To their retreat

I track the feet

Of mice that eat

The apple's root.

The axe resounds,

The bay of hounds,

And tinkling sounds

Of wintery fame;

The hunter's horn

Awakes the dawn

On field forlorn,

And frightens the game.

The tinkling air

Doth echo bear

To rabbit's lair,

With dreadful din;

She scents the air,

And far doth fare,

Returning where

She did begin.

The fox stands still 

Upon the hill

Not fearing ill

From trackless wind.

But to his foes

The still wind shows

In treacherous snows

He tracks behind.

Now melts the snow

In the warm sun.

The meadows flow, 

The streamiest run.

The spring is born,

The wild bees bum,

The insects hum,

The trees drop gum,

And winter's gone,

And summer's come.

The chic-a-dee

x Lisps in the tree,

The winter bee

Not fearing frost: The small nuthatch The bark doth scratch some worm to catch

At any cost.

The catkins green

Cast o'er the scene

A summer sheen,

A genial glow.

I melt, I flow,

And rippling run,

rr e

Like melting snow

In this warm sun

HDT

Word of the day

Interesting word of the day today:

nympholepsy [NIM-fuh-lep-see] :
A frenzy of emotion, as for something unattainable.

on being awake

To be awake is to be alive.  I have never yet met a man who was quite awake. HDT

Laurel and Hardy meet Santana

October is its sunset sky!

October is the month of painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, the year near it's setting. Henry David Thoreau 1817 - 1862
Sent from my iPhone

Thoreau + Calli = perfection

To live each day completely

how many live deeply and experience life?

"I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, … to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange uncertainty about it, whether it is of the devil or of God.." HDT

Reading this is so profound at this juncture in life. I've come to understand what he's saying completely. His emotion is so incredibly intense here. I do find life to be mean. Life is to find the meaning of the meanness and learn from it.