"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
Keats does have a pretty pen. Doesn't he?
All that banging on about eternal beauty. Even when we realize that all the business about passing and sleeping sounds just about right for a guy who did not get to celebrate his 26th birthday.
My neighbors are, though. Celebrating a birthday. But not for Keats. They would be a little early for that. He was a Halloween baby.
Even without Keats in mind, my neighbors are in full celebration. Featuring our village band. A band that plays a rather limited repertoire with plenty of drum, trumpet, and clarinet. Sounding a bit like Latin klezmer top hits.
And, of course, the surprisingly Mexican "Over the Waves." What should be Strauss is actually as local as huitlacoche.
Even though I was not invited to the celebration, I get to share in the music. Music that will undoubtedly play late into the evening.
And I am grateful in the sharing.
Just as I am grateful that the brick pile across the street has dwindled to the point where it is no longer a driving obstacle.
Grateful that the cable television line is perched on the utility poles where it once resided.
Grateful that the laguna is filling with water, still cloudy with methane-releasing silt.
Grateful that the fish, the birds, and the little crocodile are back in residence.
And grateful that the white plumeria is in full bloom with its vague and unkept promises of transport to Hawaii.
Not to mention the little butterfly, as fragile as aged papyrus, that greeted me in the shadows when I returned from my afternoon walk.
When it comes to teaching patience, Mexico can be a bit of a dominatrix. But she is far more than that.
She granted me my wish of getting up each morning and not knowing how I am going to get through the day. But, in addition, I get a basket of lovely parting gifts at the end of each day.
"Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
Keats does have a pretty pen. Doesn't he?
All that banging on about eternal beauty. Even when we realize that all the business about passing and sleeping sounds just about right for a guy who did not get to celebrate his 26th birthday.
My neighbors are, though. Celebrating a birthday. But not for Keats. They would be a little early for that. He was a Halloween baby.
Even without Keats in mind, my neighbors are in full celebration. Featuring our village band. A band that plays a rather limited repertoire with plenty of drum, trumpet, and clarinet. Sounding a bit like Latin klezmer top hits.
And, of course, the surprisingly Mexican "Over the Waves." What should be Strauss is actually as local as huitlacoche.
Even though I was not invited to the celebration, I get to share in the music. Music that will undoubtedly play late into the evening.
And I am grateful in the sharing.
Just as I am grateful that the brick pile across the street has dwindled to the point where it is no longer a driving obstacle.
Grateful that the cable television line is perched on the utility poles where it once resided.
Grateful that the laguna is filling with water, still cloudy with methane-releasing silt.
Grateful that the fish, the birds, and the little crocodile are back in residence.
And grateful that the white plumeria is in full bloom with its vague and unkept promises of transport to Hawaii.
Not to mention the little butterfly, as fragile as aged papyrus, that greeted me in the shadows when I returned from my afternoon walk.
When it comes to teaching patience, Mexico can be a bit of a dominatrix. But she is far more than that.
She granted me my wish of getting up each morning and not knowing how I am going to get through the day. But, in addition, I get a basket of lovely parting gifts at the end of each day.
"Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
18 comments:
Is that the butterfly you're talking about at the top of your post? It is gorgeous. Do you know it's name?
That is the butterfly that greeted me in the shade. Unfortunately, I have no idea what her name is. Let's call her Leticia.
Yup , The Barbarian Way ;)
Found it. White-tipped pixie. Melanis cephise.
In so many ways.
Beautiful photo. Nice post. It's another beautiful day here, too.
Beautiful photo. Nice post. It's another beautiful day here, too.
Being grateful helps keep my mind off of our weather.
Well said Steve, I couldn't agree more!
Thanks, Shannon.
I saw a few of those butterflies, while reading by the pool. They must like company since they often shared my lounge chair. Observing their flight, beauty, and gracefullness, I must say, was quite mesmerizing, and calming.
Oh so true.........and lovely writing.
For some reason, I noticed this variety for the first time yesterday.
Thanks.
Maybe it is the "quiet breathing", they are drawn to.
I usually reserve that for the telephone.
Sounds like that may be an interesting future post...
I though that was heavy breathing but I'm waiting for Steve's call
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