Wednesday, March 14, 2012

the heather on the hill and the whistle in the wall

I walked by a house where a neighbor is growing heather, what a beautiful thing. I don't know about you, but I'm having quite a green and purple-pink experience lately.

Meanwhile, there's been a strange sound in the wall by my bed at night, it's been eerie. I came across this passage today regarding the spirits of the departed who take on worldly shapes. It has me thinking, snipe, maybe? "A wicked sea-captain stayed for years inside of a cottage wall, in the shape of a snipe, making the most horrible noises. He was only dislodged when the wall was broken down; then out of the solid plaster the snipe rushed away whistling." W.B. Yeats

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