methinks I should hear with indifference if a trustworthy messenger were to inform me that the sun drowned himself last night
1.05.2014
past summers
...Thoreau's Journal: 05-Jan-1858
Mr. Hosmer is loading hay in his barn. It is meadow-hay, and I am interested in it chiefly as a botanist. If meadow-hay is of less worth in the market, it is more interesting to the poet. In this there is a large proportion of Osmunda regalis. But I fear that in the long run it is not so interesting to the cattle to contemplate and chew this as English hay and clover. How completely a load of hay in the winter revives the memory of past summers! Summer in us is only a little dried like it. The rowen in Hosmer’s barn has a finer and greener look than the first crop. And so the ferns in coal remind us of summer still longer past.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
it is the odors and the smells that bring us back!, along way back in life!. the aromas of grans cooking and the freshly mowed grass, such memories and times they evoke
Post a Comment