That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard;  That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me. - Emily Dickenson |
Monday, January 7, 2013
Hope
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4 comments:
Winter getting to you? Take heart, spring is on the way!
I am in Emporia, Kansas on my way to Alamo, Texas in the Lower Rio Grande Valley.
The photo/poem, how poignant and lovely. The Iowa State Forest quip, the best. At least hog farm aromas aren't on the air, a HUGE plus. Happy Trails Roy and Dale.
There is a very, very large number of birds at the feeders. Unfortunately a small number wack the windows and some don't make it. This was a house finch. The next day there was a junco. In the overall scheme of things it doesn't matter. In my small world, each one makes me a little sad.
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