A swinger of birches

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay
As ice-storms do…
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be…


Robert Frost ~ Birches

Sunday Sayings: A pick from the poets, writers or scriptures

10 thoughts on “A swinger of birches

  1. I had hoped to post some pics from my new Yorkshire domain but the weather has been unremittingly wet and windy since I moved – these winter birches on the River Don are the nearest thing to local

  2. Aw! You posted my personal fav by Frost! Hope the weather clears up soon so you can be out there shooting! In the meantime, perhaps some close shots of a fleck of dust in its natural habitat? Hahaha! (Good to see you here, Laura!)

    1. Isn’t it a wonderful poem Jilly? Only a recent discovery for me though – has 2 distinct feelings to it and will be posting on the other half before long
      I can definitely do dust – though it always makes me think of Eliot –
      “Dust in the air suspended
      Marks the place where a story ended,”

      1. I’ve not spent near enough time in the works of Eliot – putting Little Gidding on my reading list for this week – Thanks!
        (I was a tree climber as a child, so Birches makes sense to me in a visceral way.)

  3. Ah, I was wondering on first seeing the pics whether it was taken in your new surroundings. Looking forward to see your new habitat!

    1. I’m looking forward to seeing a bit more of my surroundings too Kiki – at the moment I always seem to be looking through a curtain of rain – or am being buffeted by March winds

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