I was really, really wrong when I thought that once I was done my MSc, finished all the administrivia and revisions that followed, that I would again have time to relax and create. As it turns out, hard work is rewarded by more hard work, and I was fortunate to get a teaching job for the summer session. However, as anyone who's taken a summer course knows, they're extremely condensed, and when I wasn't prepping, teaching, or grading, I slept. Thus, spring almost passed me by, and even while walking was often so preoccupied in my thoughts I didn't always notice the flowers quietly emerging from the green grass of the coulees.
Finally, I was able to take a breather, and start taking the time to notice again: here's old man's whiskers, in the coulees along the Old Man river, shaken by the wind.
Sing we for love and idleness, Naught else is worth the having. Though I have been in many a land, There is naught else in living. And I would rather have my sweet, Though rose-leaves die of grieving, Than do high deeds in Hungary To pass all men's believing. -Ezra Pound
Monday, July 11, 2011
wind in the whiskers
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