Saturday, July 9, 2011

Something that Lay Under the Sun

Summer is really happening here at last. Sunshine and even heat have finally made thier way into our cool green damp corner. I have been busy with everything and nothing in particular. I love spending evenings on my deck squinting in the sunset, sometimes with my laptop, sometimes with a book, but most often just  feeling the warmth on my face and simply being.

I have been thinking often on one of my favorite literary passages of all time from a book that is more dear to me than nearly any other, My Antonia by Willa Cather...

"The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers. Queer little red bugs came out and moved in slow squadrons around me. Their backs were polished vermilion, with black spots. I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep." 
The entire book is currently available to read HERE- although I recommend finding yourself your very own copy to read over and over again. 

1 comment:

Lisa said...

Yea--Willa Cather! My book club is all people not native to Nebraska--except me--and they've talked before about reading something written by a native author. Now that I'm in charge, I've pushed O'Pioneers on them.