Hurrahing in Harvest

Ah, presently the farmers are cutting the hay all around the fields in Gaming and its environs. The air smells sweet, of cut grass and warmth, and sunshine. Believe it or not, the air is even beginning to change as well -- there are slight portents of fall in the cool night air and even some leaves are beginning to change and fall off the trees.

Pretty soon, the pumpkins, gourds, and cornucopia's will be out in full swing. We'll be wearing sweatshirts, and hiking in the mountians. But, before we get ahead of ourselves, let's enjoy summer while it lasts for the Farmers in Austria are predicting an early winter!



Check out these beautiful pictures of the haying which is occuring across the street:

This agrarian beauty aptly reminds me of one of my favorite Hopkin's (1844 -1888) poems: Hurrahing in Harvest.

My father introduced the poem to me this summer and I can't get over the beauty of the verses:

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SUMMER ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise

Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behaviour

Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier

Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?


I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes,

Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;

And, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a

Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies?


And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder

Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!—

These things, these things were here and but the beholder

Wanting; which two when they once meet,

The heart rears wings bold and bolder

And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.