so much disturbing
our lives, clouding our future
our unhappy land
Adapted from the essay Letter from the East (Allen Cove, February 8, 1975) written by EB White as published in The Essays of EB White by EB White (Harper and Row, New York, 1977).
Mr. White writes:
With so much that is disturbing our lives and clouding our future, beginning right here in my own little principality, with its private pools of energy (the woodpile, the black stove, the germ in the seed, the chick in the egg), and extending outward to our unhappy land and our plundered planet, it is hard to foretell what is going to happen.
I know one thing that has happened: the willow by the brook has slipped into her yellow dress, lending, along with the faded pink of the snow fences, a spot of color to the vast gray-and-white world. I know, too, that on some not too distant night, somewhere in pond or ditch or low place, a frog will awake, raise his voice in praise, and be joined by others. I will feel a whole lot better when I hear the frogs.
My take was the air of foreboding and doom for our unhappy land back in 1975.
I guess every generation has to handle this feeling and figure it out.
I was 15 in 1975 and the future did not seem to did not seem so bad
So here is the 15 year olds of today and a hope for their future.
We walk often late in the evening to beat the heat here in the low country and our sidewalks line deep dark forests with swampy marshland.
We walk along as dusk settles and 1,000s upon 1,000s of frogs wake up and raise their voices in praise.
As we walk along the treeland swamps, we think, what is that sound?
Tonight, maybe, when we hear it, I will feel a whole lot better.
And the radio is playing Jean Sibelius: Organ Symphony … how can someone be unhappy?
No Haiku For You 