Sunday, March 11, 2007

be it ever so humble

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"Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home; A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.

An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again! The birds singing gayly, that came at my call,-- Give me them,--and the peace of mind, dearer than all!

Let others delight mid new pleasures to roam,But give me, oh, give me, the pleasures of home!

To thee I'll return, overburdened with care; The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there; No more from that, cottage again will I roam; Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." John Howard Payne: Home Sweet Home

I am glad to be home. It was a difficult trip to make. The wood thrush was here to welcome me. I haven't seen him yet, he is still deep in the wood. I heard him singing at dusk.

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I thought that he was early, and yes, I am sure it is a he. The males always arrive before the females, to claim their breeding territory. The season of his song begins. His voice was coming from the top of the trees. In a few weeks, his voice will come from the forest floor, and it will be a shorter, simpler song. By mid summer, the season of song will come to an end. If you have never heard a wood thrush sing, you are missing out on one of the joys of life. If you want to hear a recording of a wood thrush singing, go here. It won't sound as pretty as it does when you hear his voice resonating in the woods, but you can get a general idea of his melodic, flute like tones.

The voice of the wood thrush has often been written about :

Thoreau wrote of it: "Whenever a man hears it he is young, and Nature is in her spring; wherever he hears it, it is a new world and a free country, and the gates of heaven are not shut against him."

Robert Browning wrote of it:"That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!"

...and John Greenleaf Whittier wrote of it ..."And where the shadows deepest fell,the wood thrush rang his silver bell."

Yes, I am happy to be back and live where the wood thrush calls home.

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Now, begins the chore of unpacking....

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

While playing the birdsongs on the site you listed, my indoor cat started hunting. She was all upset and sure that a bird had invaded her home! :-) It is a lovely site! Thanks and welcome home. I have missed your posts! Kate/Massachusetts

Judy said...

And it is great to have you back. Love the trunk.

Fiberjoy said...

Hope your journey was a good respite for you. There is nothing quite as sweet as coming home, especially when greeted by birdsong.

Cathy said...

Oh, I love the trunk too - and how wonderful the birds and the deer greeted you.

judy said...

I am so glad you are home again. YOu make the trip look like a long journey, crossing oceans or continents. Did it feel that way? The birds are singing everywhere. In spite more snow than I've seen in years, it has a spring feel and sound. I fear the deer are suffering terribly here. I sink to my crotch. The smaller animals, my cats included can run on top. I'm afraid to leave them out alone and I can hardly chase them except on snow shoes. I found the same prints again on my drive in front of the house. Too close.

flwrhead said...

Welcome back! I've seen the wood thrush flitting about the forest, but didn't know what he was! I bet you had to pay excess baggage costs to get that trunk home.

Anonymous said...

GLAd you're back, wonderful post, and home poem! Celeste

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