I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wa't to watch the water clear, I may)
I sha'n't be gone long. - You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It is so young
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. - You may come too.
-Robert Frost
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| an old animal pasture beside our home |
When my grandmother passed away a few years ago, as a memory I took a book of poems off her shelf. The opening poem was "The Pasture" by Robert Frost. I thought it was a beautiful poem...but I didn't quite
get it. I happened upon the poem about a month ago, and still I didn't quite
get it. But today, I finally really got it. I did not intentionally seek to understand this poem. It just sort of happened...
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| a little hummingbird nest |
This morning, instead of doing what needed to be done...we pushed it
aside and went on a walk through our own fields and pastures.
We spied so many wonderful little things along the way...and took our time....
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| snow shaped by wind...(what do you think it looks like...I think a dragon with wings) |
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| beaver cuttings...some people have squirrels...we have beaver in our backyard... |
When we
made it back home, by chance, I happened to pick up that old book of
poems...and I opened it to "The Pasture"...and this time...
I got it.
I don't know how I had missed it before. I guess I just had to sweep a few of my own leaves away first...Did you get it, too?