I’m away for the weekend, without my laptop. So I’m posting the weekend theme and my contribution all in one this evening.
A comment on my blog today reminded me of a line in a poem I loved to recite as a child. The last line always makes me remember we mustn’t let our lives become over-regulated, over suburbanised.
So that’s the theme for this weekend:
“Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet”
It’s a plea for both our lives and our world, unrecognised back then a century and a half ago as a real tree-hugger statement. I think it embedded itself in my consciousness as a personal mantra and an idea for how the world should be, with space for the wild things and not overcrowded with people.
Gerard Manley Hopkins among other things studied old English (whatever that really means) and Welsh and his use of odd words had great appeal for an imaginative teenager bored with the everyday stuff around (and a bit of a romantic as well).
Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins
This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fawn-froth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew,
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.