Friday, October 19, 2007

The Season

From Anne Bradstreet's Contemplations:


Some time now past in the Autumnal Tide,
When Phoebus wanted but one hour to bed,
The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
Were gilded o're by his rich golden head.
Their leaves & fruits seem'd painted, but was true
Of green, of red, of yellow, mixed hew,
Rapt were my senses at this delectable view.


Then on a stately Oak I cast mine Eye,
Whose ruffling top the Clouds seem'd to aspire;
How long since thou wast in thine Infancy?
Thy strength, and stature, more thy years admire,
Hath hundred winters past since thou wast born?
Or thousand since thou brakest thy shell of horn,
If so, all these as nought, Eternity doth scorn.


Then higher on the glistening Sun I gaz'd,
Whose beams was shaded by the leavie Tree,
The more I look'd, the more I grew amaz'd,
And softly said, what's glorly like to thee?
Soul of this world, this Universes Eye,
No wonder, some made thee a Diety:
Had I not better known, (alas) the same had I.


Thy swift Annual, and diurnal Course,
Thy daily streight, and yearly oblique path,
Thy pleasing frevor, and thy scorching force,
All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath.
Thy presence make it day, thy absence night,
Quaternal Seasons caused by thy might,
Hail Creature, full of sweetness, beauty & delight.

Thoughts of a 17th century house wife on seasons and the sun.

At anyrate, the beer is brewed and bottled and waits its turn in a week or so.

The cross of golden aspens high on the backside of Peavine has begun to drop its leaves, as fall is not just here, but well settled with winter hard on its heels. The trees below, have grown fiery orange and yellow, as the season works its way down the mountain, the snow, frost, and ice always taking root first at the higher elevations.

And I have saved up my money and my time, and at last I will set out for the Northwest on that long-delayed vacation. My plan is simple, follow an axis of natural beauty up the coast of Oregon and Washington, taking plenty of time, and arriving at the Olympic peninsula. Then I will follow a line of culture back south, through Seattle and Portland, detouring only to visit family for a weekend.

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