Thursday, December 24, 2015

Snow - Archibald Lampman

There's not a bit of snow here in Apple River, this Christmas Eve. The above photo was taken a few months back. One of those magical Winter days.

 Loreena McKennitt's song Snow, is based on Canadian poet, Archibald Lampman's poem. When I read his poem and watch this video, I certainly have snow in my mind's eye, and the inspiring beauty of Winter. Did I really say that, the beauty of Winter? Let's just say I'm getting better at embracing it as I age, no longer having to traverse the Winter roads.

Though I do remember that magical feeling when I was little, walking in the deep woods of snow covered trees Winter with my father, the fun of skating, tobogganing, and the great excitement of the first snow fall. These recaptured memories help to make Winter more enjoyable, and living in the very rural Nova Scotia I see many beautiful Winter scenes that bring that beauty to life.

Snow by Archibald Lampman

 White are the far-off plains, and white
The fading forests grow;
The wind dies out along the height,
And denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree,
Falls down scarce audibly.

The road before me smooths and fills
Apace, and all about
The fences dwindle, and the hills
Are blotted slowly out;
The naked trees loom spectrally
Into the dim white sky.

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snow-fall hoods me round;
In wood and water, earth and air,
A silence everywhere.

Save when at lonely intervals
Some farmer's sleigh, urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
Or from the empty waste I hear
A sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog, or call
To cattle, sharply pealed,
Borne echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield;

Then all is silent and the snow falls
Settling soft and slow
The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer earth and sky
The world seems shrouded, far away.

Its noises sleep, and I secret as
Yon buried streams plod dumbly on and dream.

Merry Christmas Everyone!


thesycamoretree said...

What a lovely poem; I can almost feel the crisp air and hear the blanket of silence the snow brings. Where I live it's rare as hen's teeth! Happy holidays my friend. :)

Unknown said...

That's what I thought too Bev. I remember when we lived in rural Southern Ontario going to play with a friend when we were kids and skating on the river way out in the country and the smell of the wood smoke and the beauty of all the fields covered in snow. Magical. It's so much better when you don't have the responsibility of traveling on the roads. Too much adult worry and discomfort. I'm all for the kid stuff! Those in Nordic climes seem to get that much better than us Western whooses!