I could be hired out for crying - sad or happy versions! I think it's a great thing to do (well most of the time!). I came to Substack to follow my wonderful holistic vet Sue Armstrong who is living proof that science and the arts are entwined. This has led me to discover some wonderful writers. I would put you at the top with your insight into nature without unnecessary flowering.
Thanks so much, Katharine. I always like to pretend to myself that I write what I write and it doesn't matter to me how many people read it or what they take from it. But of course I'm just a foolish old man and I should have long ago grown out of such ridiculous fictions. It is a big thing when someone says 'Hey, I read your thing.' Grateful.
Wow… this is beautiful… made my heart widen in wonder. I love the way you see beauty in all moments of life. Amazing powers of observation and skill with the written word. Thank you.
'tis a great honor to be chosen... by a bird. And though we may never understand the 'why' of such a choice or ever really, satisfactorily explain it to anyone else, neither can we easily deny the truth of it. It stands there within our most sacred, private awareness, unflinching.
A tip of the cap and an appreciative smile, good sir.
Thanks, Candi. You are always so generous. I think there might have been other people wishing I had been sent to the moon - but they weren't so keen on getting me back to hear how it was ;-)
Wow! This is thrilling and powerful. You and the peregrine seem to have a spirit-to-spirit connection. Peregrines nest on the bluffs of the Mississippi River where I live, but have kept their distance from me, knowing me for an earthbound soul.
Thanks for reading on, Carmine. I see that we have been writing about almost the same thing at the same time, all these miles apart - "When it is ephemerality itself that is the most beautiful, heart-filling and heartbreaking thing".
Thank you for reading, David. It is a rich concept we seem to muse over again and again, never to encompass. I was thinking about quoting Robert Browning’s Two in the Campagna:
Yes, 'never to encompass'. Thank heaven. And thanks to you for redirecting me to Browning, who has languished on a shelf here for more years than I care to admit. Apart from the work itself I love the fact that forms and genres, like dramatic monologue, have come and gone over the years and there is nothing new in much that we think is so terribly modern. In my ridiculous hubris I sometimes like to think that I'm pushing at a boundary or two. But actually I'm just a child playing with some old wooden building blocks that have been sat at the bottom of the toy-chest all along.
I could be hired out for crying - sad or happy versions! I think it's a great thing to do (well most of the time!). I came to Substack to follow my wonderful holistic vet Sue Armstrong who is living proof that science and the arts are entwined. This has led me to discover some wonderful writers. I would put you at the top with your insight into nature without unnecessary flowering.
So powerful and evocative, as always. Thank you for sharing your memories and insights.
Thanks so much, Katharine. I always like to pretend to myself that I write what I write and it doesn't matter to me how many people read it or what they take from it. But of course I'm just a foolish old man and I should have long ago grown out of such ridiculous fictions. It is a big thing when someone says 'Hey, I read your thing.' Grateful.
Love and beauty - fierce as well as tender. Thank you for reminding us of this.
Wow… this is beautiful… made my heart widen in wonder. I love the way you see beauty in all moments of life. Amazing powers of observation and skill with the written word. Thank you.
Wow, wise Peregrine! Beautiful parting gift.
'tis a great honor to be chosen... by a bird. And though we may never understand the 'why' of such a choice or ever really, satisfactorily explain it to anyone else, neither can we easily deny the truth of it. It stands there within our most sacred, private awareness, unflinching.
A tip of the cap and an appreciative smile, good sir.
Your gifts leave me grateful.
Thrilling read!
Beautiful, David. Thank you.
Such a beautiful, moving piece. Thank you.
Another stunning piece, David!
You’ve done it again.
Your writing is truly remarkable - very raw and visceral and poetic. I wish I could write like you do, and bring nature to life so vividly.
That's very kind of you. For sure you'll be writing like you do whenever the time is right :-)
I wish it was you they'd sent to walk on the moon. Oh, the imagery we earth-bound would have had.
Thanks, Candi. You are always so generous. I think there might have been other people wishing I had been sent to the moon - but they weren't so keen on getting me back to hear how it was ;-)
Ha-ha-ha.
Wow! This is thrilling and powerful. You and the peregrine seem to have a spirit-to-spirit connection. Peregrines nest on the bluffs of the Mississippi River where I live, but have kept their distance from me, knowing me for an earthbound soul.
Thanks for reading on, Carmine. I see that we have been writing about almost the same thing at the same time, all these miles apart - "When it is ephemerality itself that is the most beautiful, heart-filling and heartbreaking thing".
Thank you for reading, David. It is a rich concept we seem to muse over again and again, never to encompass. I was thinking about quoting Robert Browning’s Two in the Campagna:
Already how am I so far
Out of that minute? Must I go
Still like the thistle-ball, no bar,
Onward, whenever light winds blow,
Fixed by no friendly star?
Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The old trick! Only I discern—
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn
Yes, 'never to encompass'. Thank heaven. And thanks to you for redirecting me to Browning, who has languished on a shelf here for more years than I care to admit. Apart from the work itself I love the fact that forms and genres, like dramatic monologue, have come and gone over the years and there is nothing new in much that we think is so terribly modern. In my ridiculous hubris I sometimes like to think that I'm pushing at a boundary or two. But actually I'm just a child playing with some old wooden building blocks that have been sat at the bottom of the toy-chest all along.
Diving . Soaring. Crying . Flying .
Falcone sighing.
Rollercoaster in the sky.
She rides the thermals to the clouds. She waits for you.
In awe of the last paragraph…
A magnificent ride.
Thanks again, Lor, for reading and for your generosity. Think you got the bones of it there - in far fewer words :-)
I have difficulty describing just how beautiful this is.
Thanks, Rick. I'm glad it made some sense for you.