And thinking of Roethke’s The Far Field:

All finite things reveal infinitude:
The mountain with its singular bright shade
Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow,
The after-light upon ice-burdened pines;
Odor of basswood on a mountain-slope,
A scent beloved of bees;
Silence of water above a sunken tree :
The pure serene of memory in one man, –
A ripple widening from a single stone
Winding around the waters of the world.

anita – Thanks for stopping by! Glad your mom twisted your arm. i enjoyed your post.

Theriomorph – No, I’m sure it sin’t judgemental… except, as Chris’s comment implies, in where they draw the line between superstition and religion. To me, the useful distinction is between folk/popular belief and official doctrine — and I’m always much more interested in the former (with the possible exception of Daoism: popular Daoism leaves me cold). So it seems to me that they could’ve called it “Dictionary of Folk Beliefs.” A minor point, I suppose.

Chris – Thanks for stopping by. It figures that a desert rat like you would like hawthorns – they’re a little like cacti, aren’t they?

CadyMay – I was wondering when you’d pop in again! I’m glad this resonated with you. I’m reasonably certain that if I showed someone one of my favorite places, they’d probably be a bit underwhelmed — unless they’re under the age of ten and easily impressed. I had a good success rate with my niece Eva a couple years ago.

Damn. One less buyer for my forthcoming “Guide To The New Testament.”

Lovely post, Dave. I miss hawthorns.

Me too. And we painted rocks with stream-dipped devil’s/angel’s paintbrushes. For hours. And hours. We opened rocks looking for geodes (with a highly advanced set of tools called ‘a smasher rock’ and ‘a table rock’).

It’s a great book, Dave. Nothing judgmental in it at all, either – they’re folklorists, reporting the facts of folklore. It lacks origins/historical context, but that’s fair, since if it included such it would be longer than the OED.

I’m quite sure that if/when the global economy goes down the tubes and kids no longer have high-tech gizmos to mesmerize them, they’ll figure out how to play in the woods again fairly quickly. The only question at this point is whether there will still be any woods.

Truer words never said.

[The direct link to anita's post, "Hawthorn Magic," is here. --Dave]

rr – Was it really that much longer ago for you than for me? I’d didn’t think you had more than five years on me at the most. In any case, since you recommend it, I will have to try hawthorn leaves this spring.

Theriomorph – Damn, that’s the kind of comment that really adds value to a post! Thanks. I’ve looked at that book in the bookstore, but said to myself, “Do I really want a book that labels other peoples’ beliefs ‘superstitions’?” But I do love this kind of folklore, and feel that there might be grains of truth in it. A lot of people used to harm the trees, I gather: it was considered a great wood for tool handles of all kinds. I guess the elves didn’t make the trans-Atlantic voyage. Frazier mentions the May-time use of hawthorn boughs as a relic of European tree-worship.

Sally – Feel free; links are always welcome (except from those darn splogs that ruin my Google PageRank!).

I do hope folks will follow your second link and check out your dusted-off essay about your own childhood ramblings — terrific, as I said over there. Thanks for sharing that.

carolee – I’m glad you connected with this, and found it helpful. I hope you’ll come back and leave a link if you do end up posting a poem (or prose) about your secret childhood places.

I’m quite sure that if/when the global economy goes down the tubes and kids no longer have high-tech gizmos to mesmerize them, they’ll figure out how to play in the woods again fairly quickly. The only question at this point is whether there will still be any woods.