Wednesday, June 5, 2013

"Allee, allee, in free"

photo of Spring wild flowers
© harrington
Hi. Come on in out of the rain and drizzle. The flowers in the picture were blossoming in mid-May last year. I just noticed some this year when I walked the dog in the rain this afternoon. Do you remember the nursery rhyme "it's raining" that turned into a Peter, Paul and Mary tune? If you're interested in seeing a performance, try this link. And then there's Langston Hughes poem April Rain Song:
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night—

And I love the rain.
Do you remember a certain blog author writing recently about "if you can't be in the place you love, love the place you're in?" I certainly do. I think that same writer is now trying to use a comparable approach to weather. Otherwise, why would he also share Rain at the Zoo, by Kristen Tracy?
A giraffe presented its head to me, tilting it   
sideways, reaching out its long gray tongue.   
I gave it my wheat cracker while small drops   
of rain pounded us both.  Lightning cracked open   
the sky.  Zebras zipped across the field.   
It was springtime in Michigan.  I watched   
the giraffe shuffle itself backwards, toward   
the herd, its bone- and rust-colored fur beading   
with water.  The entire mix of animals stood   
away from the trees.  A lone emu shook   
its round body hard and squawked.  It ran   
along the fence line, jerking open its wings.   
Perhaps it was trying to shake away the burden   
of water or indulging an urge to fly.  I can’t know.   
I have no idea what about their lives these animals   
love or abhor.  They are captured or born here for us,   
and we come.  It’s true.  This is my favorite field.
I'm struck by what seems to be limited empathy, or perhaps just insight, reflected in the phrase "I have no idea what about their lives these animals love or abhor." I usually have a pretty good idea what our dogs love or abhor. Admittedly, a giraffe wagging its tail might just be flicking flies, but animals have body language. On the other hand (as economists like to say) I often find myself at a complete loss about why some other humans aren't as addled as I am about some places I consider special. I suppose this is what they mean when they say that's what makes horse races and, maybe, why some horses are better "mudders" than others. How's this 40 days of rain thingy working out for you? Thanks for the visit and for listening. Come again when you can (unless the sun is shining). Rants, raves and reflections served daily here at My Minnesota.