A Sour-Sweet Day

Minus 2 degrees this morning, then clear sky and melting snow in the afternoon. A day of good and bad. A sudden fever and sore throat, yet a few calm hours with a new book. Later in the afternoon, Lyman Lake is completely iced-over when I visit hoping for an easy photograph of a goose, not feeling well and not having the energy to take a hike. The lake had been open a few weeks back. I thought I saw open water and a gathering of ducks and geese up the trail, so I set off only to find I was mistaken. But along the way I spotted the Bittersweet vine wound into the branches of a small tree along the shore. I always enjoy seeing this plant in winter. And it always reminds me of the fine poem of the same name. A fitting find for a sour-sweet day.

Bitter-Sweet
Ah, my dear angry Lord,
Since thou dost love, yet strike;
Cast down, yet help afford;
Sure I will do the like.

I will complain, yet praise;
I will bewail, approve;
And all my sour-sweet days
I will lament and love.

— George Herbert

Posted on 15 de março de 2017, 03:18 AM by