Mowing

Mowing
by Robert Frost

There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound—
And that was why it whispered and did not speak.
It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.

Kinda sums up my weekend, except for it being quiet, quaint, and bucolic. Cutting hay is dirty, hot, sun-burning business but we got it all knocked down Friday and Saturday.

Then Sunday, it rained.

Damn Michigan weather. But it should come off ok with the ten days of sun we’re supposed to get. It’s fun getting to run the equipment and everything, but damn I’d get bored runnin tractor all summer long. Driving around quits being novel after the first five hours on an open station tractor, I tell you what.

Been reading some good books lately, reviews to be forthcoming. The Pirate’s Heart by Catherine Friend is a rollicking good read, great summer book, as it chases four women on a treasure hunt. Pirates, treasure, a lost treasure map, a mad dash to find the treasure, and an illusive island, this pirate novel by a sheep-farmer in Minnesota is a feel-good adventure with a reference librarian superhero heroine. Good time.

The other I’m liking is Haunting Warrior by Erin Quinn. Rory MacGrath can only see the woman of his dreams in vision, but the death of his Irish grandmother takes Rory home where he trips back through time to find himself in the middle of a violent political upheaval and war. Thick with Irish mysticism and passion, this is a rich book with great characters, especially for a romance, which, let’s face it, isn’t always known for its depth and scope. Granted, that’s not the point, but it’s nice to see.

In the research vein, I’m reading Madams: Bawds and Brothel Keepers of London by Fergus Linnane. Sex and violence, what’s not great about that? :) New project set partially in eighteenth century Britain required a library day yesterday (oh darn) and, again, I came away with far too much reading. Oh well, will give me something to do when J and I drive to South Carolina next weekend.