Monday, April 13, 2009

fishing blues

The Fisherman

ALTHOUGH I can see him still.
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connemara clothes
At dawn to cast his flies,
It's long since I began
To call up to the eyes
This wise and simple man.
All day I'd looked in the face
What I had hoped 'twould be
To write for my own race
And the reality;
The living men that I hate,
The dead man that I loved,
The craven man in his seat,
The insolent unreproved,
And no knave brought to book
Who has won a drunken cheer,
The witty man and his joke
Aimed at the commonest ear,
The clever man who cries
The catch-cries of the clown,
The beating down of the wise
And great Art beaten down.
Maybe a twelvemonth since
Suddenly I began,
In scorn of this audience,
Imagining a man,
And his sun-freckled face,
And grey Connemara cloth,
Climbing up to a place
Where stone is dark under froth,
And the down-turn of his wrist
When the flies drop in the stream;
A man who does not exist,
A man who is but a dream;
And cried, 'Before I am old
I shall have written him one
poem maybe as cold
And passionate as the dawn.'
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) poet and dramatist

it was a full and lovely weekend. today, the clouds are moving in and if the forecasters are correct, more april showers are in store. but that only means more may flowers!

we saw plenty of flowers yesterday; f and I wandered over to the nearby rocky river reservation for an early afternoon hike. after walking through the neighborhood admiring all the spring flower and trees in bloom (at last some of the flowering trees are showing their color), our first stop was at the stinchcomb-groth overlook, it was such a clear day one could see the keybank skyscraper and the goodyear blimp nearly ten miles to the east in downtown cleveland(click on pic and you can see them too!).

behind the overlook we discovered a steep woodland trail which took us down to the river. we only noticed the trail when a mountain bike went flying by and quickly disappeared. we followed the bike and soon found ourselves on the banks of the river. there were lots of anglers on the river trying their luck at catching some of the steelhead trout which run in the river this time of year.

we got home, to spend the rest of the day in comfortable companionship with friends and family - socializing, reading, and eating copious quantities of delicious food. after dessert ms t pulled out the wigs for a little after dinner silliness.


John Hayes said...

Love that Yeats poem, which as far as I can recall I'd never run across before; & Taj Mahal's version of "Fishing Blues" is always great. Sounds like you had a fun Easter.

R.L. Bourges said...

what John Hayes said + I love the color of the water in the fishing shot.

Taj Mahal's Fishing Blues is a fave of mine.

The wigs are the same colors as those candy Easter eggs we had as kids :-)

California Girl said...

Yeats is so great. I always loved "Slouching Towards Bethlehem" and "The Waste land". Not terribly upbeat but definitely worth analysis.

Meanwhile, I rec'd four or five comments on a number of my posts with a profile name: ed. Nothing else identified this ed and all the messages were in hieroglyphics or some gobbledygook which, I hope, is not a oomputer virus. I cursored over the name and your ID came up but you don't show this person on your blog roll. I've deleted everything. Just hope it's not too late. It could be some weird computer glitch but he did show 1900 views of his profile.

Anything like this happen to you?

Absolute Vanilla (and Atyllah) said...

Love Yeats, love that poem though it's a new one to me.
And LOVE the after dinner wig silliness! Perfect!

Merle Sneed said...

The blues make me smile. I love them. Not a fisherman, but I'm attracted to the solidarity of fishing.

Roy said...

Heh, heh! Good ol' Taj! "I'm a-goin' fishin', Mama's goin' fishin', baby's goin' fishin' too." It's getting to be that time of year; trout season isn't far off!

Maxie said...

I loved the poem. I loved the picture with the wigs. My kids will have to grow up again. They never had wigs to play with and they would have loved them.


Reya Mellicker said...

Taj! He is one of my favs. Remember Hammer from the maypole party last year? He gave me a CD of Taj recorded live at the Fillmore East on my 18th birthday. He was playing with a band that included FIVE tuba players. Five. Fabulous.

Hey you're headed to Texas? You get around, girl!

flawsnall said...

the pink wig takes the cake! OMG!

anytime i encounter the word or hear 'Taj Malhal' i am so reminded of what the young lawyers used to call my best friend in the universe...thanks for the trigger

flawsnall said...

okay, maybe the wig is fuscha (sp?)---and in the case of this obviously matters...sorry pooch! love the expression around the eyes and nose...

Candie Bracci said...

Really cool pictures!:D

ArtSparker said...

There is also the Waterboys song "fisherman's blues"

Baino said...

Glad you had a lovely Easter and that is the most embarrassed looking dog I've seen in a long while! Love the men fishing too . . although it looks a tad chilly!

Squirrel said...

I'm with Merle, I like the feel of being alone with nature, but could never drag a poor fish through the water by a sharp hook and enjoy myself doing it.