I find it heart wrenching every single autumn, but remind myself that we are so so lucky that my grandparents in 1918 and parents (1948) chose to build cabins on this lake and we, as children, climbed the rocks and explored the forest every summer, as our children and grandchildren do now. Me, too, of course as you can tell from my many boreal forest photos!
I read this quote recently at a memorial service for an old timer who spent most of his life at our lake. It really touched me.
"Through the marshes and the forests
An imperious summons flies
And from all the dreaming northland
The wild birds flock and rise."
P. McArthur
Watercolour Print by Ireart on Etsy
4 comments:
Another great blog! Le'ts hope winter isn't coming too soon.
Thanks! It's hot here today. Makes me wish we hadn't closed down yet! Next year we will stay much longer.... :-)
Love your photos!
I think Anne of Green Gables in one of the later books might have quoted this? It reminds me of the books, somehow...
Thanks, Deniz! The Poem is "Birds of Passage" by Peter McArthur (March 10, 1866 – October 28, 1924) a Canadian Poet -- so maybe Montgomery did quote him - or she may have even known him! He has an interesting history. I find his poems to be quite simple and yet often humourous and charming - and very readable. Some might call it light fare, but sometimes that is a good thing, I find! This is my favourite poem of his and ... well here it is in full:
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
Peter McArthur Canadian Poet
WHEN the maples flame with crimson
And the nights are still with frost,
Ere the summer's luring beauty
Is in autumn glory lost,
Through the marshes and the forests
An imperious summons flies,
And from all the dreaming north-land
The wild birds flock and rise.
From streams no oar hath rippled
And lakes that waft no sail,
From reaches vast and lonely
That know no hunter's trail,
The clamor of their calling
And the whistling of their flight
Fill all the day with marvel,
And with mystery, the night.
As ebb along the ocean
The great obedient tides,
So wave on wave they journey
Where an ancient wisdom guides;
A-through the haze of autumn
They vanish down the wind,
With the summer world before them
And the crowding storms behind.
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