It’s been quite a few years since the release of America, Simon and Garfunkel’s popular tune about a young man and woman traveling by bus across country in search of the soul of America.
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From the category archives:
General
What is your source of perennial joy? Do you have one? What thought, memory, image, or understanding can you rely on, do you trust to rekindle the wonder and magic for life you once felt as a child?
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Along Route 17 near Mount Pleasant in the region north of Charleston, South Carolina, you’ll find by the roadside small wooden shacks that contrast sharply with the skillfully crafted sweetgrass baskets displayed in them. Traditional weavers who learned the art from their ancestors sit inside, seeking shade from the hot sun while passing the time weaving their wares to the sound of cars speeding down the highway.
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No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face.
~ John Donne
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You must give birth
to your images.
They are the future
waiting to be born.
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I used to imagine him
coming from his house, like Merlin
strolling with important gestures
through the garden
where everything grows so thickly,
where birds sing, little snakes lie
on the boughs, thinking of nothing
but their own good lives,
where petals float upward,
their colors exploding,
and trees open their moist
pages of thunder -
it has happened every summer for years.
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On my very first evening in Greece, my friend and I were walking through the main square of the charming seaport town of Nafplio on the Peloponnesian peninsula, enjoying the soft air and the sights and sounds of children playing a makeshift soccer game, weaving around the benches where the town elders relaxed, laughing as they chased the ball, dodging the couples strolling arm in arm or pushing baby strollers. In the growing dusk the lights of the restaurants around the square glowed a welcome, which was extended by the banks of chairs and tables cozily arranged under canopies, conveying more of a feeling of a living room than a formal dining area.
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O Spirit of the Summertime!
Bring back the roses to the dells;
The swallow from her distant clime,
The honey-bee from drowsy cells.
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A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. Why does Thomas Carlyle say this? Because it is in loving that we learn life’s most difficult and important lessons.
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