... the hazels (one girl, one boy) and ... 
one jasmine (the left one is an elder) ... ... by about 2,5-3 three metres was enough for a beginning, as - old sportsman's spirit - I don't use a motor-saw.
Cutting the jasmine I had been hesitating for five years. However, now it had to be done, although bad conscience was upon me; and not wrongly.
The longer I was busy with the jasmine, the more little visitors I got. They sat down on one of the few long branches which were left, and although I do not speak Sparrowish fluently, I knew the little fellows were cussing like sailors that, at least for a while, they will have to find another sleep-tree.
Which is why - to make up for -, immediately after my outrage, on the other side of Seanhenge I planted ...
... voilà: Seanwood Forest.
5 comments:
A grand solution to remorse:
To plant the roots of Seanwood Forest.
I'm sure the sparrows won't take it too personally. They will just have to find comfortable new perches for a while.
Sean, if you are talking about gardening and taking photos of your work, then spring is definitely in the air...
I am looking forward to your blossoms soon...
Your very poetic Seanwood Forest might
(I accentuate:might) grant you forgiveness.
Certainly was amusing to read your post the day Laudator Temporis Acti offered a poem of Ronsard, starting:
Stay, woodsman, stay thy hand awhile and hark
It is not tree thou art laying low!
Does thou not see the dripping life-blood flow
From Nymphs that lived beneath the rigid bark? *
The last two lines, in beautiful old French Ronsard:
Ne vois-tu pas le sang lequel degoute a force
Des Nymphes qui vivoient dessous la dure escorce?
Not to worry, dear, dear Sean. I'll talk to the Nymphs in your favour.
*P.S. The whole poem is powerful and truly worth reading.
In case nobody go and read the fascinating post I mentioned, I should clarify that Ronsard was crying the death of a whole forest (not just 2-3 trees.) It had been sold by a French King to pay for his debts.
The King did not repent, and did not create another beautiful forest like yours, Sean. The Nymphs are very happy with you.
Stan,
I have to confess that Seanwood Forest meanwhile went the way of all recently cut branches - up to the highest spot of the village where next week they will contribute to gorgeousness of the Easter fire.
Nevertheless, the little fellows meanwhile, indeed, seem not to bear anymore grudges - the took their domicil in the elder.
Nevin,
your words in nature's ears! I think latest around Easter some blossoms will be ready for pleasing your eyes.
Claudia,
you are very kind to putting in a good word for me.
Now am I not Dafydd ap Gwilym, but I'd like to know what the nymphe would do let I play my charme ...
Re Laudator Temporis Actis and Ronsard: I had read the poem earlier, and found the simultaneousness of the dissimilarity amusing.
Post a Comment