Morning's minion

"'The Windhover'

I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth in swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, --the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.


-- Gerard Manley Hopkins"


Between rain showers this morning, I saw a pair of tufted titmice (titmouses?) at a puddle by the roses in back. (This photo is from the internet, I think the Cornell Ornithology Lab.) One day when I lived in the Oak Trail apartment, a pair of them sat on my balcony rail and sang. Of course, they're not falcons, but they are little birds with big voices.

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I planted the lily-of-the-valley bulbs--sprouts, actually; they sprouted in the bag of dirt they were shipped in. It took two bags of Miracle Gro to fill up the big planter, but it was big enough to place them 4-6 inches apart. They're supposed to be tough as nails, so maybe I won't kill them.

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I've also got my entry ready for ASPS's John and Miriam Morris chapbook contest. The prize is $100 and 50 copies of the book, if one should win. Now all I need is a book title.