down by the river where the green grass grows

i bet many of you remember the rest of that one, this is all i can remember:
down by the river where the green grass grows
there sat XXXXX? pretty as a rose
along came XXX? and kissed her on the cheek

it came back to me this morning when looking at some photos i took day before yesterday, while i was down by the river. as i sit here nibbling my peanut butter and honey on toast, i read this poem by jane kenyon that took me deeper into that place i know so well.


Evening Sun

Why does this light force me back to my childhood? I
wore a yellow summer dress,
and the skirt made a perfect circle
Turning and turning

until it flared to the limit
was irresistible. . .The grass and trees,
my outstretched arms, and the skirt
whirled in the ochre light
of an early June evening.

and I knew then
that I would have to live, and go on
living: what a sorrow it was; and still
what sorrow burns
but does not destroy my heart.

I love her poetry and also that of her husband, Donald Hall. I just bought his newest book, White Apples and the Taste of Stone. i just can't express how deeply his words affect me, they are like little threads of light that burrow deep down into my bones like magic.

It's a cold, crisp morning, still in the low forties, but the sun is bright and shining - what a gorgeous fall day. The meandering river, the rain, and all the forces of nature have created a new and beautiful little pool in the meadow where there was only field grass and it's creatures. Now there are cattails, and river grasses, dragonflies dive and hover there, and we even see tiny fish swimming in the dark clear water. Walter has set up a chair at the water's edge.he likes to sit there and read in the quiet. After a moment or two of sitting, i find myself wandering along the river's edge, mesmerized by all the beautiful stones, relishing in the fact that i am so delighted by something so simple as stones, and realizing what a blessing that delight is. I chose my favorites for the day, and picked a handful of dried thin wild sweet pea pods, the color of eggplant. I also found a neat little pile of pulverized deep brown jagged rock in the midst of large smooth stones, tiny little pieces i collected to use as texture in a future painting. i wonder what happened to that stone, what crushed it? there was no evidence of anything else being disturbed...curious.
today i plan on spending time painting and making art. there is a small art show in Belfair, our tiny community, on saturday, and i will have a table there. mostly i look forward to meeting some of the other artists and folks in the community. until next time......