Everyday life in a rickety old Scottish farmhouse with a very happy Polish Lowland Sheepdog. A record of those unimportant little things that are too important to be forgotten.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
The Bright Field
The folks in the house by the church have opened their shutters and are hauling the lemon trees out of the greenhouse and arranging them around the pool. Sophie pauses to watch. Curiosity sated we continue through the village, turn left at the crossroads and stand at the top of the ridge looking out towards the mountains. Then the sun comes out, the hawthorn trees shine and there in the valley below - the doe - with not one, but two, fawns. The sight makes me laugh out loud .
The arrival of these new neighbours an event too small for a diary but too important to go completely unrecorded.
Here is a fitting Saturday morning poem by a great Welsh poet.
The Bright Field
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
the treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
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Is Sophie just admiring the view there, or did she spot the fawns?
We think there are intriguing scents from the Pyrenees blowing in that wind...not just fawns.
XXXOOO Bella & Roxy
You could be right !
I would never like to hazard a guess as to what Sophie is doing .
What a beautiful day with lovely sights that make you appreciate life.....a lovely poem that could well sum up any lovely day.
Have a wonderful weekend.
A perfect verse and photos at the start of the day. The lines,
'Life is not hurrying on to a receding future, nor hankering after an imagined past,'
is especially true and something I have to remind myself of.
i am a delighted unashamed voyeur of your life. xo
How completely perfect.
What the others have said. And thank you for a new poet in my life.
A Celtic forerunner of Wendell Berry ?
Lovely poetry today! I love the smell of lemon trees. I'd have stopped with Sophie to admire them, too!
Two fawns! How marvelous!! More difficult for mum, of course. And how lovely you so enjoy the beauty and abundance of your home The land is
blessed. If I recall correctly,
the font found your village and your
house. The Font's discovery was a blessing as well.
P.S. Debussy's Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn may be in order.
A receding future? An imagined past? Thought provoking.
Excellent! We have two new residents as well: a pair of jays, hated by the magpies.
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