One comments. . .
As I "mushed" on into a little clearing, walking towards the sun, I had a glimpse of a winter effect I always like to see. On the tops of the trees the wind was blowing, and just ahead of me there suddenly fell from a hemlock branch a quantity of snow which disintegrated to powder in the sunlit air. As it thus dissolved, the snow dust turned to a mist of rainbow brilliance, a certain coppery, bronzy glow seeming to hang for a moment against the sun.
The other replies . . .
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
The paragraph is from Henry Beston's Northern Farm: A Chronicle of Maine, and the poem is by Robert Frost, "Dust of Snow."
I don't know if they ever met, but I think they would have gotten along very nicely.
This is an interesting comparison. I often think about authors meeting. I think that such comparisons are interesting for both very similar as well as dissimilar writers.
ReplyDeleteBrian--indeed, for I find that putting two writers together or two works together, often shows me something I would never have seen without the juxtaposition. For example, both mention a hemlock--is that a coincidence? or because there are so many hemlocks in NE? or because there is something about the hemlock that encourages a dust of snow in comparison to other types of trees?
DeleteAnd both refer to appreciating something quite insignificant--just the fall of snow.
very picturesque... both authors are attuned to nature, obviously, and convey the magic thereof quite well... unfortunately, it reminds me of coming winter with road blocks, fallen trees, no electricity, wood chopping, etc. i wish sometimes i lived in Tucson...
ReplyDeleteMudpuddle--it therefore seems clear that you would have written a different paragraph or a different poem.
DeleteYes, in winter time, having grown up in Chicago, I am very glad to be living in Tucson now.
not to be too abrasive, but i think water hemlock is the poisonous variety: it is a kind of weed that grows near creeks; lots of it here in Oregon... the tree is harmless, so far as i know... unless it falls on your house... we have lots of them and i hope we dodge the proverbial bullet again this winter; they do tend to blow over in high winds...
ReplyDeleteR.T.--I obviously did not think of the poisonous qualities of the hemlock. I saw a man who looked forward to and enjoyed the scene of the snow dusting down off a tree and another man whose mood improved when he was "dusted" by a crow on a hemlock branch.
ReplyDeleteNow looking again at the two, I see nothing else suggesting poison or death or any darker elements. So, you may see it as blindness on my part.
Mudpuddle--I think the following is the point you were making.
ReplyDeleteFrom the wiki article. . .
"Conium maculatum is known by several common names. In addition to the English hemlock, the Australian carrot fern,[2] and the Irish devil's bread or devil's porridge the following names are also used: poison parsley, spotted corobane and spotted hemlock.
The plant should not be confused with the coniferous tree Tsuga, also known by the common name hemlock even though the two plants are quite different. The dried stems are sometimes called kecksies or kex.[3]"
So, the tree appears to be harmless, except of course when it topples over on someone's house.
R.T.--a nap at any time is always a good idea.
ReplyDeleteRT: you're a veritable Basho! that's quite a nice haiku, even with the recommended 17 syllables... it pins down one aspect of existence pretty well, i think...
ReplyDeletewhat's the adage? rest after labor, sleep after life, silence after noise, something, something....
ReplyDeleteMudpuddle--sounds familiar.
ReplyDeleteYou're doggone right.
ReplyDeletehaha... groan...
ReplyDeleteMudpuddle--I agree. It's bad.
ReplyDelete