Splendour in the Grass


My last post was about the simple joy of the flowers in the garden, and when I stop to smell the flowers, as my mom always encourages, it makes me think of my favourite verse in a poem I studied in high school, “Ode. Imitations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood”.

Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young lambs bound
As to the tabor’s sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

-William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

As a teenager, I loved the rhyme but the meaning of the words didn’t really sink in. For some reason though, it stuck in my head, and as I get older it becomes increasingly poignant.

Perhaps my romantic nature is part of why I became a foodie. The nature of a meal is ephemeral at best, lasting only as long as food is on the table. Capturing the magic of shared company and tastes (in the food and the people) has created the fabric of so many memories for me. That fabric has become the tapestry of my life.

The garden has the same quality, always changing and following the circle of life. It has been a great lesson for me to learn that the faster I cut away the old blooms, the sooner the plants will offer up more in return. (Turning a blind eye only prolongs the sorrow, with dead stalks waving in the wind instead of the vibrant colour of new life.)

Another of my favourite writers is Tom Robbins, a more modern fellow than Mr. Wordsworth, but with the same romantic tendencies. He spoke of childhood too, and how as adults many of us search to maintain that sense of wonder kids know innately.

I’ll close off with a quote from “Still Life with Woodpecker”, one of my most cherished reads of all time.

The romance of new love, the romance of solitude, the romance of objecthood, the romance of ancient pyramids and distant stars are means of making contact with the mystery. When it comes to perpetuating it, however, I got no advice. But I can and will remind you of two of the most important facts I know:
1. Everything is part of it.
2. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
― Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

If it seems a bit obtuse, I can only recommend you read the book. If it makes sense, well then I hope we come into contact some time so we can share in the magic.

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About happygourmand

I am a professional gourmande - a lover of life. Not only food and drink, but life in general. I love experiencing life to its fullest, and I love sharing my adventures with others.

Posted on June 1, 2017, in food, garden, seasons, summer and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Nancy McMurchy

    Embarking yet one more time again adventuring both pieces, Robbins more particulaly, resonate. In Annapolis Royal tonight & the garden & surround plantings of the bnb remind me so much of the Hollow. A little older but as eclectic. Chickens are additive as is the asparagus patch. Thot occurred: front lawn! No more mowings!
    Thanks for the connectors.

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