This poem had a way of bringing me into the entire scene of the hawk along the lake. I loved how she was able to see the beauty in the hawk describing it as, "admiral," and "this is not something of the red fire, this is heaven's fistful." I feel like certain animals in nature, especially predators, have a connotation as being mean or bad. Oliver is able to highlight on the power, intent, and freedom of the hawk as it soars on some unknown mission through the lake. You feel the tension of the piece as she describes the, "hawk hooked one exquisite foot onto the last twig to look deeper into the yellow reeds." It had this image of suspense as we watch the next move of the hawk. One line that stuck out to me was, "it cruised along the lake- all the time its eyes fastened harder than love on some unimportant rustling in the yellow reeds." The way she highlights his focuses being "harder than love" both shows the value of his missi...
Theres are not many days when I get some time to myself and even fewer where I just get to be alone. Today, by chance, my 8 hour clinical was surprisingly replaced by a quick hospital orientation and I was out by 9 am. With practically a whole day open that had been previously blocked off I took sometime so run errands and take time for myself. On my drive home I decided to take a quick walk and spend some time outside. I drove over to the trinity and started towards the path. Walks are something I grew up doing with my family, friends, or dogs. Nowadays my outside activities are limited and I spend most of my time in doors or watching outside from a comfortable window. As I walked from my car to the trail the first and only thing I could focus on was how hot it was. Growing up here this was my biggest deterrent to going outside but I was determined to keep going. As I walked down the side walk I was reminded of the little things around me I had always...
I think this poem was a bit amusing to read. Oliver starts in almost a pessimistic mood as one wanders through gardens filled with glass and other rubbish. She then goes to describe the little wrens that spend their days filling pails with sticks, diving into the water, and whistling throughout their work. Her last line to describe these wrens is, "foolish birds." I understood this as almost being unamused by the simplicity and contentment in the life of a wren. They spend their days doing small tasks that in the grand scheme seem unimportant to us while moving on in pure bliss. I sometimes find myself feeling a bit of envy for birds and other animals when I am caught up in my life and stressed. How nice it would be just to gather sticks and sing all day. How unbothered and content a life of no expectations must me. I wish to be a foolish bird without a care in the world. We might envy the simplicity of nature while we build a world revolving around innovation....
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