"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" asked the Mad Hatter.
"I give it up," said Alice. "What's the answer?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, said the Hatter.
"Nor I, said the March Hare.
A riddle without an answer - an open-ended question which can lead anywhere - even to a writing desk - is what this blog is about, and ravens are a good place to start.
The black birds flap with strong regular strokes across the Dartmouth sky, which is pink now on this New Year's Day afternoon. Occasionally pausing their wings to coast in a wide arc, the Ravens pull up in the top of a spruce tree, from where they can survey their world - a much wider world from a bird's eye view than from inside my boxed-in human apartment. Let thoughts take wings, and reach unexpected corners, and echo back like the calls of birds.
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Dear Maida-Riddles, ravens, (w)riting desks, and rhymes-These are the things that the New Year brings-I am no poet, as you can see, but my writing desk (basically, my computer, wherever I am) is often tuned to my family. Your blog is now on my internet browser's "bookmark bar," so I can check it often. Let's see what echoing thoughts are shared here. Love, Nancy.
ReplyDeleteRuth sent me the following "Tale of a Crow in Cambridge"
ReplyDeleteWhile at college, I was walking from Harvard Square to my junior year housing in one of Cambridge's elegant old Victorian houses. (They instituted bus service between the Colleges only when weakling Harvard men began to be housed at Radcliffe.) I passed another of those handsome houses, which had in its capacious front yard an enormous black bird and a gardener. In my sheltered life in suburban New Rochelle, I had never seen a bird that big outside of a zoo. I asked the gardener what it was, and he told me it was a crow. I thanked him, and walked on, picturing to myself his conversation with his wife after he got home: "Fancy Radcliffe girl, doesn't even know a crow when she sees one." -- Ruth
HI, Maida -- Testing, testing your revised site. Wish I had something interesting to say! On the other hand, at this point in my life, having nothing to report is in itself good news. Love -- Ruth
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