A Place for Родниковые воды

Spring waters on Junk Road

Tonight at 11:49 pm (Eastern time), Spring officially arrives at Merry Mount and at other sites in the Northern Hemisphere.  But just five days ago the fields surrounding us were covered with snow.  For the past two days we have had intermittent downpours of rain. The soil is saturated, the rose garden is partially under water, and our four ducks (Maxine, Iris, Petunia and Bluebell) are happy.  This morning we heard a symphony of birdsong and tonight a chorus of frogs will serenade us.

Has Spring arrived?

There fell a beautiful clear rain


With no admixture of fog or snow,


And this was and no other thing


The very sign of the start of spring.

Not the longing of a lover


Nor the sentiment of starting over,


But this clear and refreshing rain


Falling without haste or strain.

Paul Goodman (1911-1972)

I leave you with a short but powerful song by Rachmaninoff (please listen).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSMCB_FwX-I

Spring Waters

English Translation © Philip Ross Bullock

The fields are still white with snow,

But already there is the sound of spring in the waters –

They run along and wake the sleepy banks,

They run, and glitter, and proclaim…

They proclaim in every direction:

‘Spring is coming, spring is coming!

We are the heralds of youthful spring,

Who sends us on ahead.

Spring is coming, spring is coming,

And the quiet, warm days of May,

Like some rosy, radiant round-dance,

Hurry along in its wake.

Jeshchjo v poljakh belejet sneg

Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev

Jeshchjo v poljakh belejet sneg,

A vody uzh vesnoj shumjat --

Begut i budjat sonnyj breg,

Begut, i bleshchut, i glasjat...

Oni glasjat vo vse koncy:

"Vesna idjot, vesna idjot!

My molodoj vesny goncy,

Ona nas vyslala vperjod.

Vesna idjot, vesna idjot,

I tikhikh, teplykh majskikh dnej

Rumjanyj, svetlyj khorovod

Tolpitsja veselo za nej!..."

CPW

A Place for a Paddy Wagon

On this March 17^th, I, like many Irish Americans, will wear green and celebrate what I suspect to be Irish heritage.  Being skeptical of businesses that can supposedly tell me of my heritage, I instead look into family records and discover my great grandfather William Patrick Justice (May 2, 1858-July 2, 1943).  Good enough for me, I will eat corned beef, cabbage, and red potatoes.

And what of St. Patrick’s Day?  I certainly can’t claim any allegiance to Saint Patrick, the closest connection to Catholicism I have, is having been a resident of South Bend, IN for nine years, “Go Irish!”.

The stereotypical Irish-American has been characterized as a poor, ignorant, hard-drinking, temperamental fighter.

In a 1997 essay for City Journal, a New York-based literary magazine, author William J. Stern wrote about life for Irish Americans during the 19^th Century, including one theory as to the origin of the term "paddy wagon":

Over half the people arrested in New York in the 1840s and 1850s were Irish, so that police vans were dubbed “paddy wagons” and episodes of mob violence in the streets were called “donnybrooks,” after a town in Ireland.

Death was everywhere. In 1854 one out of every 17 people in the sixth ward died. In Sweeney’s Shambles the rate was one out of five in a 22-month period. The death rate among Irish families in New York in the 1850s was 21 percent, while among non-Irish it was 3 percent. Life expectancy for New York’s Irish averaged under 40 years. Tuberculosis, which Bishop Hughes called the “natural death of the Irish immigrants,” was the leading cause of death, along with drink and violence.

So, as I don the green today, our “Paddy Wagon” will remain at Merry Mount as we adhere to the coronavirus quarantine.  But, for a happier note, I leave you with a performance by the great Irish tenor, John McCormack.  Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgQCPifM-p8

There's a tear in your eye,
And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile,
Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.

For your smile is a part
Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song,
Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life
Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours
Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Ball / Graff / Olcott

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

CPW (Paddy)

A Place for Pi

3 . 1 4 1 5 9 2 6 5 3 5 8 9 7 9 3 2 3 8 4 6 2 6 4 3 3 

Pi is an infinite decimal and an irrational number. 

           

https://decimal.info/digits-of-pi/value-of-pi-to-25-decimal-places.html

I like to think that Merry Mount is the perfect place to celebrate  (π).

We continue to observe what seems like an infinite number of magnificent orbs.  Here are 3.14:

Rett will tell you that I can be irrational (I think that I am one of the most rational/logical people around).  For example, she thinks that my anger is often an irrational behavior, and in that case, I must agree.

Pi Day is a holiday that is celebrated on March 14th every year. This day was created to celebrate the mathematical constant π. It falls on 3/14 since three, one and four are the first three digits of PI. It is a holiday that has been celebrated large-scale since 1988.

            http://www.holidayscalendar.com/event/pi-day/

So on this Pi Day I leave you with these words and images:

Eat more pie

 and

There once was a rational guy,

Who’s behavior became awry,

His face would turn red,

T’was “out of his head”,

He recovered by reciting π.

CPW

Salute to the Worm Moon

In his final book (1881), Charles Darwin documented that worms literally move the earth in the process of their meanderings. He noted that their passage through the earth aerates the soil and the natural chemistry of their guts renders soil and plant matter into fertile pellets. As a by-product of their movements, worms deposit new soil on the surface, causing whatever was on top to slowly submerge. Thus, whole monuments may be buried over a period of decades. It is estimated that for a single acre of cultivated land, earthworms move 8 tons of earth in a year, enough to produce a new layer of earth 2 inches thick, rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and calcium.

Tomorrow, on March 9, 2020 at precisely 1:48 p.m. the Worm Moon will reach it’s peak fullness.  But, weather permitting, we at Merry Mount will observe the full splendor of the Worm Moon tonight as we listen for earthworms as they excavate the soil.

Worm Moon?  Native Americans (and others who were aware) noticed that in the Northern Hemisphere, the month of March was a transitioning month between Winter and Spring, and that earthworms often begin to surface due to the thawing ground.  The full moon was an important occasion for them and its splendor whetted their imaginations.  Their mystical beliefs prompted numerous traditions long before scientific knowledge eclipsed their beliefs.

Whether you believe the full moon brings forth the worms, or you know that the tilt of the Earth changes seasons, we can observe the beauty of the quality of the moonlight tonight.

We will call him Mr Ow.

He smiles at a Spoon and a Cow.

At this time of year,

Squiggly objects appear.

The Earth wakes up, here and now.

CPW