Thursday, March 24, 2011

Carving Mustaches and Tickle Spearing

What a Lovely Morning Friends!

I hope the weather is as lovely for you as it is for me! Its cool and cloudy here, just the way I like it :) If your wondering about the post'll have to wait for an explanation. Mwahahaha.

Today I thought I'd do something new and share a poem from one of Greg and I's {{{is that bad grammar? who knows}}} favorite poets Wendell Berry. Today's poem is from A Timbered Choir, one of his books of poetry. It is from the 1991 section, number VIII.

What do the tall trees say
To the late havocs in the sky?
They sigh.
The air moves, and they sway.
When the breeze on the hill
Is still, then they stand still.
They wait.
They have no fear. Their fate
Is faith. Birdsong
Is all they've wanted, all along.

{{{Photo by Ansel Adams}}}

Isn't it lovely? Read it out loud to yourself. It might feel silly, but it sounds so beautiful when you hear the way the words flow together. Today I'm wishing I lived in an enchanted forest with tall trees and little birds singing all day long. But I do not dismay at where I am now either. I have been greatly blessed and I am thankful.

As for the post title... ;) Last night before bed Greg's mind fell asleep before his body did and the result was quite hilarious. He kept mixing up his words, for example, instead of saying "noticed" he said "norticed". He decided that he needed to "carve his mustache" in the morning. And have any of you seen on of these?
If you have, you'll understand, if you haven't, they are dangerous! Stay far, far away from them! He decided to "tickle spear" an unsuspecting me with it. Oh but I had my revenge. Death by tickle spear.

Have a wonderful Thursday everyone!


  1. Loved your post, it made me smile :-)

  2. I'm so glad Carmen! I hope you'll continue "visiting"!


  3. Beautiful combo, Berry and Adams. I love Ansel myself, he inspired me to start visiting the National Parks when I was very little.


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