A quiet morning reading Frost

Sweater: H&M, Vintage dress: thrifted, Shoes: H&M

I have been on a Robert Frost kick recently and got caught up in this poem, Spring Pools, this morning. I kept poring over the words and images embedded in these few lines and really found myself feeling them. I may be wearing a springy dress and not wearing tights, but don't let that fool you - the air was chilly despite the sun. Birds and little bugs were out, but really, let's not rush the change of seasons too much. While I love full-blown spring as much as the next person, let's hold on a bit longer to that winter thaw. It's an awfully nice little span of time (though we didn't get much of one this year, I can pretend and enjoy this poem all the same).

Black tea and Robert Burns

"Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, the drift is driving sairly,
Sae loud and shill's I hear the blast - I'm sure it's winter fairly.

Up in the morning's no for me, up in the morning early!
When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snow, I'm sure it's winter fairly!

The birds sit chittering in the thorn, a' day they fare but sparely,
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn - I'm sure it's winter fairly."
-Robert Burns

I caught myself thinking of this poem today and how, after a storm blew in last night, it surely feels like winter now. There hasn't been much in terms of snow since the season began. A little here and a little there, but it's always been quick to go. While it's felt like some sort of pseudo-winter, I think perhaps now the sham has been replaced with reality. And, like Burns' line "up in the morning's no for me...", I could have easily stayed asleep this morning while the snow fell, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

My days of late have blended together much the same: up in the morning for work, sipping tea and reading in the afternoon, visiting with my grandmother in the evening. I find it a triumph when I can recall what day it is without thinking too hard or looking at the calendar. There's a certain peace to these cold, semi-lazy winter days that, even though I grumble through them sometimes, I wouldn't trade for the splendor of spring or the brilliance of autumn. They're quiet, predictable and ultimately comforting especially when tea, scarves and cardigans are involved!

Tea for thought

"Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves - slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future."  -Thich Nat Hahn

Camera: Nikon FM 10
Film: Kodak Ultramax 400

With quiet eyes

"I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!"

-Afternoon on a Hill by Edna St. Vincet Millay

Cardigan: Target (old), Top: H&M (old), Locket: antique mall
Vintage belt: thrifted, Skirt: Old Navy, Shoes: Aldo

A dreamy and magical light

"Then followed that beautiful season, [...] the Summer [...]! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood." -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline, Part the First II

Shirt and shoes: Target, Belt: thrifted, Skirt: a very old favorite
Necklace: H&M, Flower pin: gift from Raquel

Poetic placidity

Yesterday a friend and I ventured into Albany for a film and Lebanese take-out (mm, baba ghannouj). This particular friend and I make an effort to visit our favorite local independent theatre as often as possible -- to escape, however briefly, into the captivating world of motion pictures where our minds journey with the characters on screen and our heart-strings get tugged at a little (or a lot). It had been a while since any one film dropped its anchor in my core and stayed there until the credits ended. It had been a while since any one film held my eyes wide and attuned my ears to my heart. "Bright Star" was just that film.

A Thing of Beauty

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
-John Keats, 1818, from Endymion

Photo source

Lavender and Lupin

Shirt: Old Navy (little girls' dept.), Pants: Gap, Shoes: Target

I relaxed after work this evening by spending some time in my mother's garden. We have a delightful array of wildflowers, lavender, tomatoes, dill, parsley, basil, green beans, and zucchini, among other things. It felt more springlike than summer, but at least it wasn't raining (which has been the norm here lately).

"Every time you wake up and ask yourself, 'What good things am I going to do today?', remember that when the sun goes down at sunset, it will take a part of your life with it." -Indian Proverb

Weep You No More Sad Fountains

This clip features Kate Winslet as Marianne Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility singing "Weep You No More Sad Fountains," a beautiful and anonymous poem collected by John Dowland in the 1600s. The poem was put to music by film score composer Patrick Doyle for Emma Thompson's 1995 adaptation of Jane Austen's beloved novel. Can I just tell you, I LOVE THIS MOVIE! I have watched it more times than is probably healthy for a person. I never seem to get enough! I watch it when I am feeling a little down or when I'm feeling happy and just need a Sense and Sensibility fix. I'll have it playing in the background while I busy myself with other things or at night as I drift off to sleep. Each time I sit in admiration of the direction, musical score, costumes, and the characters. Oh, the characters! A few years ago I purchased the soundtrack and it is quite often my daily car companion. "Weep You No More Sad Fountains" and the song Marianne sings toward the end of the film, "The Dreame" (lyrics by poet Ben Jonson), are performed by opera singer Jane Eaglen. What a voice! To further channel my inner nerd, I recently borrowed Emma Thompson's screenplay & diaries of the film from the library. I've never read a screenplay before, so I figured my first might as well be one of my favorite films. I'll leave you now with the lyrics to "Weep You No More Sad Fountains."

"Weep you no more sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven's sun doth gently waste.
But my sun's heavenly eyes
View not your weeping,
That now lies sleeping
Softly, softly, now softly
Softly lies sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets.
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at ev'n he sets?
Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping
Softly, softly, now softly
Softly lies sleeping."

Delicious Autumn!

"O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow
Make the day seem to us less brief."
- Robert Frost, from "October"

"There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings, as now in October."
- Nathaniel Hawthorne

"I sometimes think that the other months were constituted mainly as a fitting interlude between Octobers."
- Aldo Leopold, from "A Sand County Almanac"

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."
- George Eliot

"The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on."
-Emily Dickinson