Though he had gone for a walk, he had not successfully escaped into
He had again known and exulted in that expansive flattening of time and being
brought on by sun and the scent of timothy,
by sudden twists in trails, the ringing buzz of meadow crickets,
and unexpected redwings.
But he had not successfully escaped into summer morning.
He had not lunged free of the idea of a walk,
the promise of a walk, the memory of past walks and his
involuntary and helpless comparison of this morning's
walk with those past. He could neither forget nor fail to anticipate.
He had failed to suffuse himself into the Day;
He had failed to extinguish his consciousness of the Whole while remaining
a conscious unit of the Whole;
He had not successfully escaped into summer morning.
|Copyright © 1980, 2004 by David Newkirk (DavidNewkirk@gmail.com). All rights reserved.|