Since the brief pause with the business of life, I’ve noticed that since re-commencing posting, blog spam has jumped, however sporadically. While writing more regularly, I saw almost none. Now, it’s several each day.
For those interested, Jon over at barlowfarms.net, posted this. After reading the post and a few comments, I’m going to have to pull out the copy I think I have, read and ponder. As I age, it’s at times like these, with the weight of the past week, that I find more solace in the comfort of scripture, as well as the well-turned word, like the passage from Beowulf, or the following, by Wendell Berry. While not about people, it resonated with the events of this week.
“The Old Elm Tree by the River”
Shrugging in the flight of its leaves,
it is dying. Death is slowly
standing up in its trunk and branches
like a camouflaged hunter. In the night
I am wakened by by one of its branches
crashing down, heavy as a wall, and then
lie sleepless, the world changed.
That is a life I know the country by.
Mine is a life I know the country by.
Willing to live and die, we stand here,
timely and at home, neighborly as two men.
Our place is changing in us as we stand,
and we hold up the weight that will bring us down.
In us the land enacts its history.
When we stood it was beneath us, and was
the strength by which we held to it
and stood, the daylight over it
a mighty blessing we cannot bear for long.
(from The Country of Marriage, HBJ: New York. 1975. p3)
Solo Deo Gloria,