Hello everyone! We hope you’re enjoying time outside now that
we’re on May’s doorstep. At Pathfinder Village, our Produce crew is very
busy in the rush of spring with planting the garden beds at our Hoop Houses,
the weekly market, and getting ready for our sixth annual Splash Path 5k and
Fun Walk on Saturday, May 18. Register at Racewire to run or
walk today! More information is at our website; we also send out our sincere thanks to all our community partners and sponsors who keep
registration fees affordable!
We invite you to visit our friendly weekly market each Thursday,
from noon to 5 p.m., so that you may add the power of fresh produce to your
family’s meals and snacks. We’re fresh, affordably priced and convenient
… Pathfinder Produce, we’re Rooted in Community!
***
Taking
an interest in many activities helps support one’s health; reading,
gardening, playing music, and other crafts and hobbies keep our brains from
atrophying and help relieve stress. And so, as someone who enjoys
reading, I thought I’d share this timely list of spring poems that I found at The
Guardian’s website.
One
poet I hadn’t read before was John Clare
(1793–1864), who was writing in rural
England in the early-to-mid-1800s. His “Young Lambs” alludes to how
spring can be capricious. More information on Clare is at the Poetry Foundation’s
website.
Young Lambs by John Clare
The spring is coming by a many signs;
The trays are up, the hedges broken down,
That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines
Like some old antique fragment weathered brown.
And where suns peep, in every sheltered place,
The little early buttercups unfold
A glittering star or two--till many trace
The edges of the blackthorn clumps in gold.
And then a little lamb bolts up behind
The hill and wags his tail to meet the yoe,
And then another, sheltered from the wind,
Lies all his length as dead--and lets me go
Close bye and never stirs but baking lies,
With legs stretched out as though he could not rise.
The trays are up, the hedges broken down,
That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines
Like some old antique fragment weathered brown.
And where suns peep, in every sheltered place,
The little early buttercups unfold
A glittering star or two--till many trace
The edges of the blackthorn clumps in gold.
And then a little lamb bolts up behind
The hill and wags his tail to meet the yoe,
And then another, sheltered from the wind,
Lies all his length as dead--and lets me go
Close bye and never stirs but baking lies,
With legs stretched out as though he could not rise.
This
poem and others by Clare serve as a reminder of other spring traditions: The Morris Dancers from
Binghamton, Boston, Toronto and New York will be performing at the
Pathfinder Gym this Saturday at 12:30 p.m., part of their traditional tour of
Otsego County that highlights rural dances and welcomes the growing
season. All are welcome to enjoy this great display of agrarian dances!
Until
next time, keep active!
Lori
