I needed a game change. I needed refreshment. I needed something contemplative. I needed...yes, "Seasons at Eagle Pond".
Oh what a joy to read something so fresh and un-ironic! Tis a tonic I say, a refuge from the world. Am into Spring now, just past that glorious description of Oxford and Cambridge in June. Oh to be young and in Oxford! Which reminds me of a memoir I could write:
Oh how I recall those days in Oxford (Ohio), where I studied the classics (of comp sci lit)...Anyway I think my favorite so far is the oddly fascinating account of saving ice in winter for use during the long, hot summer. I can get drunk off a single word or phrase of Donald Hall's: like "moon-cold". I haven't felt this since the Arthur Philips' "The Song is You" some months ago.
I was amazed every time we dug through the wet sawdust in the cool shade of the ice-house to find cold Winter again - packed silvery slab of Eagle Pond preserved against Summer, just as we hayed to preserve Summer's grass for the Winter cattle.Read a jot of Chesterton in "Generally Speaking" and a medicinal dose of the Hall book and the readings from the Roman liturgy since I went to St. John's Byzantine. The one downside of the Byzantine church is the lack of feasts, including, apparently, the Baptism of Our Lord. The liturgical seasons are so watered down there that only Easter leaps out as qualitatively different.
I may or may not miss the climatory seasons, but I do miss the liturgical ones.