Seppala Kennels 'SledDogBlog'

bad wind a blowin'

 
ON Wenlock Edge the wood’s in trouble
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
 
’Twould blow like this through holt and hanger         5
When Uricon the city stood:
’Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
 
Then, ’twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare:         10
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
 
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:         15
Then ’twas the Roman, now ’tis I.
 
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, ’twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.         20
 
        —A. E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad, (1896)

A hard wind has blown out of the south all last night and throughout the day, tossing the cone-laden heads of the black spruces wildly about and threshing the leaves of the aspen poplars. Last night the moon was hugely full. Between the full moon, the high wind, and the growing encroachment of the planet Mars my nerves are on edge. I happened to think of the Housman poem that I memorised decades ago and found it quite in keeping with my present mood.

The e-mail storms have died down somewhat, but a sullen, restless mood pervades the dysfunctional Seppala community as we all wait for someone else to settle our disagreements for us. Achilles sulks in his mountain retreat, Hector broods at his computer keyboard, while the Achaeans and the Trojans murmur uneasily and try to sort out their own feelings about the matter. "The tree of man was never quiet." As the bad wind blows, we all wait, uncertain whether the dénouement will be a climax or an anticlimax...

Posted by jjeffrey at August 12, 2003 11:16 PM