Day 5

A banana plant in the autumn vale-
I listen to the dripping of rain
Into a basin at night

by Matsuo Basho

Day 4

Ghost House

I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberry grow.

O're ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing fields;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.

It is under the small, dim, summer star,
I know not who the mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me -
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad, -
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.

By Robert Frost

Day 3

Storm Fear

When the wind works against us in the dark,
And pelts with snow
The lower chamber window on the east,
And whispers with a sort of stifled bark,
The beast,
"Come out, Come out!"-
It costs no inward struggle not to go,
Ah, no!
I count our strength,
Two and a child,
Those of us not asleep subdued to mark
How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length,-
How drifts are piled,
Dooryard and road upgraded,
Till even the comforting barn grows far away
And my heart owns a doubt
Whether 'tis in us to arise with day
And save ourselves unaided.

by Robert Frost

Commentary: so winter has finally come to the fields and undulating mountains of Pennsylvania. Although it is late, I am still somehow caught off guard. I brace myself for many gray, short days.

Day 2
Clouds will seperate
The two friends, after the migrating
Wild gooses departure

By Matsuo Basho

Commentary: there is a loneliness about winter when everyone covers up and disappears into their homes. Even the birds leave us.

An experiment

Today I've decided to embark on a a journey of self discovery. Okay, maybe that sounds silly, but it's true. Who am I? Well everyday I have a different answer to that questions. I am not static. I am constantly changing, evolving and discovering myself. Along the way, I have often turned to poetry as a thoughtful friend. So, for the next three hundred and sixty-five days I will be choosing one poem that best defines me that day. Wish me luck!
Day one:
Here is today's poem:

letting go
of a slanderous heart------
while shelling the beans
Hosai Ozaki

Commentary: for me I find much comfort in the ritual cooking of the Thanksgiving meal and the cutting of root vegetables and slow simmer of soup, two days later.

Hiking

One of my favorite pastimes is hiking in Pennsylvania. It was always an activity I found rewarding and therapeutic. However, since my daughter was born, it has become even more important in my life. I find most of life's lessons can be explained during that quiet, pensive time you spend walking the wood's roads and trails in our area. My daughter's curiosity just explodes when faced with all of the natural beauty that surrounds us. Many people I meet are unaware of the many varied trails that crisscross our valley. I was blessed with a Father whose unwavering passion for Nature and exploration brought him to the discovery of "fifty hikes in central Pennsylvania" by Tom Thwaites and "Recreational maps of State College and Penn State" by Mike Herman of Purple Lizard Publishing. I cannot recommend these guides enough if you what to get to know the back roads of our area. In future posts I will tell you about a few of my most cherished spots and describe in more detail other guides.