Green-Robed Senators

Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,
Dream, and so dream all night without a stir…

~ John Keats, Hyperion, Book I

When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with it fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze.

~ Thomas Carlyle

The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream. The oak sleeps in the acorn, the bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. Dreams are the seedlings of realities.

~ James Allen

A Deep Hoarse Call

The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in. ~ W.H. Auden

There are special days in life that stands out as bright memories. There might be joyous days with the ones you love. And then there are days when you are out on your own. Days which are perfect for exploring all kind of winding paths in the woods.

It was on such a day, a spring day when I heard a deep hoarse call above the path. The tree tops formed a perfect acoustic space for bird song. A green airy room. Light-hearted I walked under the beautiful arch.

Suddenly, the deep hoarse call came back. I looked up into the foliage vault, as a large black bird flew into the woods and back over the source.

Now I saw them. Two young ravens sat perched on a branch waiting for food and the latest news from the outside world.

On this wonderful autumn day I can not help but look for the ravens from that glorious day in spring.