Quote of the Day (Conrad Aiken, on Seeking an Elusive Word or Name)

“You know, without my telling you, how sometimes
     A word or name eludes you, and you seek it
     Through running ghosts of shadow,—leaping at it,
     Lying in wait for it to spring upon it,
     Spreading faint snares for it of sense or sound:
     Until, of a sudden, as if in a phantom forest,
     You hear it, see it flash among the branches,
     And scarcely knowing how, suddenly have it.”— American Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, short-story writer, novelist, and critic Conrad Aiken (1889-1973), The House of Dust: A Symphony (1920)

Quote of the Day (Conrad Aiken, With Praise for Rain)

“Beloved, let us once more praise the rain.
Let us discover some new alphabet,
For this, the often praised; and be ourselves,
The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf,
The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone,
And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,—
Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion,
Beneath the elm-tree bough, till rain is done.”— American Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, short-story writer, novelist, and critic Conrad Aiken (1889-1973), “Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain,” in Conrad Aiken: Collected Poems, 1916-1970, Second Edition (1970)

Don’t get me wrong: these are lovely verses, demonstrating the tremendous skill and depth of feeling of Conrad Aiken.

But, after my area of the Northeast was hit with flooded streets and highways Tuesday night—and with even worse forecast for today—I can’t wait “till rain is done” this week.

(By the way, while on vacation 25 years ago, I went out one afternoon to see Bonaventure Cemetery, just east of Savannah. You may recall this resting place as the stunning backdrop for the book and film adaptation of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. But it’s also where Aiken and another son of Savannah, Oscar-winning songwriter Johnny Mercer, are buried. I think it’s no coincidence that, coming from this beautiful region, both men included plenty of images of nature in their work.)