(Or were you INTO the 'spirits'?)
Talk about feeling like a kid and wading in the river- Evan had a summer biology project, and had to field-find some 20 specimens, including an "aquatic arthropod", so off we went to Fishing Creek, that runs through Orangeville. I thought it was going to be a pain in the ***, but we not only found a big craw-dad, we wound up having a great time and were there for about 2 hours, lots of worn bedrock on which to jump around, burbling water, V's of honking geese winging up and downstream below the treeline, cool breeze and cool water, and we even saw a kingfisher. Went back the next day with Leah, who felt left-out, and spent another two hours. There, 61 years old, going on 10!
I put this next poem up last year. What I didn't previously know is that this guy wrote it after meeting Murph!
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A Vagabond Song (by Bliss Carman)
There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood --
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
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