After a spell of searing heat, April thunderstorms have been cooling the city every evening. After a storm, the sky burns distantly with the remnant embers of the day.
That reminds me of two of Eliot’s verses:
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
from “The Waste Land”
And then the morning brings the excited chitter of sparrows. I need to set up a nest box, because this guy and his woman-in-waiting are trying to stuff straw into our rolled-up bamboo curtains.
O quick quick quick, quick hear the song-sparrow,
Swamp-sparrow, fox-sparrow, vesper-sparrow
At dawn and dusk. Follow the dance
Of goldfinch at noon.
from “Cape Ann”
Founder-editor of The Green Ogre, Beej began this blog as a solo writing project in 2006. A communications professional, he has worked as a corporate storyteller, journalist, travel writer, cartoonist and photo-blogger. He was formerly the founder-editor of Yahoo India's travel site.
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