Mist
Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of the lake and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!
Henry David Thoreau
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of the lake and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!
Henry David Thoreau
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
William Wordsworth
Well, no daffodils. (I wonder whatever happened to the pre-school fund raising bulbs we planted last year? Buried never to be seen again.) Anyway, this was the morning view as I wearily trudged out to make school lunches. Part of my seasonal landscape series "Views from the back deck". :-)
Ro-Ro took a few ornithological photographs of a frost-bitten rosella on the telegraph wires. No herons here either, but the birdlife in Canberra is quite spectacular just the same. Pity that can't be said of the overhead wires. Looks like a Melbourne tram crossing up there.
