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Good Morning Nanty Glo!
                        Wednesday, June 2 2004

Jon Kennedy, webmaster

So rare

The words above, taken out of context, remind me of Tommy Dorsey's 1957 hit record of the same name. But I was searching for something about the start of summer, the halcyon days of June when lightning bugs glow in the twilight and the first toad of the summer jumps just ahead of your falling foot when you make your way from the garage to the back door in the gloaming.

Monday's recollections about the always intertwined events of Memorial Day and my birthday (May 30 and 31 in the day) were accompanied by many other special days within two weeks of this. The blessed last day of school. Graduation and baccalaureate (BVHS has its graduation this Friday, with a class of 50). The first picnic, first evening of sitting on the porch or in the yard as the sun sets. The first thunderstorm of the season. First swim in the creek and first moonlight swim. All the umbrella plants in the edge of the woods, the snake racing across the country road, the wildflowers and first milkweeds. Church services with the windows open. First nap in the hammock.

I wonder if John Rufus Sharpe & Jerry Herst were thinking of the same poem I was trying to dredge up when they wrote the song made famous by Tommy Dorsey:

What Is So Rare As A Day in June
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,
An instinct within it that reaches and towers,
And, groping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers;
The flush of life may well be seen
Thrilling back over hills and valleys;
The cowslip startles in meadows green,
The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice,
And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean
To be some happy creature's palace;
The little bird sits at his door in the sun,
Atilt like a blossom among the leaves,
And lets his illumined being o'errun
With the deluge of summer it receives;
His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings,
And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings;
He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,-
In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?

Now is the high-tide of the year,
And whatever of life hath ebbed away
Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer,
Into every bare inlet and creek and bay;
Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it,
We are happy now because God wills it;
No matter how barren the past may have been,
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green;

We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell;

We may shut our eyes but we cannot help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions are blossoming near,
That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing,
That the river is bluer than the sky,
That the robin is plastering his house hard by;
And if the breeze kept the good news back,
For our couriers we should not lack;
We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,-
And hark! How clear bold chanticleer,
Warmed with the new wine of the year,
Tells all in his lusty crowing!

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how;
Everything is happy now,
Everything is upward striving;
'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true
As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,-
'Tis for the natural way of living:
Who knows whither the clouds have fled?
In the unscarred heaven they leave not wake,
And the eyes forget the tears they have shed,
The heart forgets its sorrow and ache;
The soul partakes the season's youth,
And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe
Lie deep 'neath a silence pure and smooth,
Like burnt-out craters healed with snow.

James Russell Lowell
(1819-1891)

Webmaster Jon Kennedy 

Less-known proverbs

I wished the buck stopped here, as I could use a few.

Sent by Mary Ann Losiewicz 

Thought for today

I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once.

Jennifer Unlimited
Sent by Trudy Myers 

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