Blog: The First

The Pasture

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(and wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.

—Robert Frost

As some of you know, I thought long and hard about what to title my blog. I almost always title my writing last. I mean, I don’t usually know everything I’m going to say before I say it. What if I decided to title a poem Homecoming, and then it turned out to be about leaving home? That wouldn’t do. (Although, I just thought of how that could work—really well—wow.) Anyway, the point is, it’s hard for me to give something a title before I know what it’s going to be. And really, I have no idea what this is going to be.

But I do know what I want to accomplish here. Briefly, and basically, I want to write—to express myself. I’ve keenly felt those muscles atrophy since I finished school and left academia. It saddens me, and I need to do something about it. Blogging seems like a good option. So, essentially I’m blogging for me. I know. Shocking. If you thought it was for you, I’m sorry. It’s for me. It needs to be done—a chore, if you will. But you can come too. In fact, I want you to. It’s a journey I could take alone (as my mother said—why not just write a journal?), but any journey is better with friends along. Besides, I like an audience. Feedback. Interaction. And this is where you come in, see?

Thus, the title I finally settled on comes from one of my many favorite poems by Robert Frost: The Pasture. It is the introduction to one of his early books of poetry. And rather than regale you with insightful literary criticism of this introductory poem (and believe me, I could…), I’ll just say this: For me, at this moment, this poem speaks about doing chores—things that need to be done, and that are even peaceful and enjoyable. And while he doesn’t need company for the tasks, he invites us along—for companionship, for enjoyment, for feedback, for whatever. So, while I’m working on this necessary (and enjoyable) chore of restoring writing to my life, as I clear out the muddy spring and nurture tottering ideas, I echo Frost’s invitation—you come too.

P.S. Some day, remind me to tell you why this is also one of my favorite romantic poems. Hey, Frost DID say his poems can mean whatever you want them to mean!