Well, maybe this isn’t the appropriate plaint. It’s not the world that’s too much – it’s these current threats and realities.
Most especially am I stunned by grouches encountered on a prescribed sunny day’s stroll in a nearby preserve. Not a wing was to be seen over that meadow. And o, my! — far too many people: new to those reaches; , not trusting regulars; refusing to smile; some even glowering… First time I’ve been worse off AFTER a walk than without one!
Then there’s the problem of my current escape reading:
Wouldn’t you think Audubon’s Art and Nature would be ideal?
What is the first poem I come to, –facing John James’ compellingly simple image of the yellow-throated vireo, singing his heart out to what seems a flawless hydrangea?
SONNET TO SOLITUDE
O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings. Climb with me the steep, —
Nature’s observatory — Whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
‘Mongst boughs pavilion’d, where the
deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
Many poets are within this treasured volume, by no means only Keats.
Interesting that my current hero gets it about the importance of climbing (or walking into) “Nature’s observatory”… I’ll just have to try a different preserve!