Such a wonderful sound to hear the first sounds of the waterfall as you come near on the hiking trail....my husband and I used to hike often before our kids were born and the sound of the waterfall was always such a wonderful gift!
This one is for my father, who is 87, because he will recite it for me on demand. The first stanza from Henry Kendall's "Bellbirds":
By channels of coolness the echoes are calling, And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling: It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges. Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers Struggles the light that is love to the flowers; And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing, The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.
The perfect match and the one that sprung immediately to my mind as it's the signature poem of the blog! I couldn't use it because I try not to repeat myself (saving that up for old age).
I'm glad you repeated it though to fill the gap. My Dad could recite it too.
Yes, yes ... how daft of me! I somehow associated it with you but did not know why! You would giggle - I am sitting here surrounded by books: Bruce Dawe, Kenneth Slessor, Judith Wright, Rosemary Dobson, Robert Gray, Gwen Harwood ... ooh I have had a lovely little flick through.
Such a wonderful sound to hear the first sounds of the waterfall as you come near on the hiking trail....my husband and I used to hike often before our kids were born and the sound of the waterfall was always such a wonderful gift!
ReplyDeleteAnd where, pray tell, is my poem?
ReplyDeleteI ran out of steam. It's my first week back commuting which takes some getting used to.
ReplyDeleteokay ... I will go look for one for you. Hang in there ...
ReplyDeleteThis one is for my father, who is 87, because he will recite it for me on demand. The first stanza from Henry Kendall's "Bellbirds":
ReplyDeleteBy channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling:
It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges
Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges.
Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers
Struggles the light that is love to the flowers;
And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,
The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.
I think you have used this before - not sure.
The perfect match and the one that sprung immediately to my mind as it's the signature poem of the blog! I couldn't use it because I try not to repeat myself (saving that up for old age).
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you repeated it though to fill the gap. My Dad could recite it too.
Yes, yes ... how daft of me! I somehow associated it with you but did not know why! You would giggle - I am sitting here surrounded by books: Bruce Dawe, Kenneth Slessor, Judith Wright, Rosemary Dobson, Robert Gray, Gwen Harwood ... ooh I have had a lovely little flick through.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful spot and atmosphere!
ReplyDelete