The birds have declared "Spring"
in my little corner of the land.
I had the most beautiful walk this morning as I listened to them.
Too bad tomorrow is going to be frozen, again.
One of Emerson's Poems comes to mind:
The Apology
Think me no unkind and rude
That I walk alone in grove and glen;
I go to the god of the wood
To fetch his word to men.
Tax not my sloth that I
Fold my arms beside the brook;
Each cloud that floated in the sky
Writes a letter in my book.
Chide me not, laborious band,
For the idle flowers I brought;
Every aster in my hand
Goes home loaded with a thought.
There was never mystery
But 'tis figured in the flowers;
Was never secret history
But birds tell it in the bowers.
One harvest from the field
Homeward brought the oxen strong;
A second crop thine acres yield
Which I gather in a song.
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"Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; " 1 Thess. 5:21 (NRSV)
We all trust our own unorthodoxies.
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