With June has come summer. With June has come rain. It rained relentlessly yesterday. Thus, I was surprised to experience a delightful happiness and contentment driving along the drizzly road in the morning, gazing at the subdued greenery and grey skies. I thought of the beauty of the countryside even on this dark, damp and drab day. I thought of cosiness and warmth and how fortunate I am to have a dry home to return to. And how fortunate I am to be traveling through this verdant and ever-changing landscape. Today hushed and muted; tomorrow perhaps, scintillating and radiant.
I am reminded of this ‘tiny poem’ written by Charlotte Brontë when she was aged 13, and sold by Bonhams in 2013 for double its guide price of between £40,000 – £45,000. Why am I reminded? Perhaps because I had the dour sight of Bodmin Moor brooding in the distance as I was driving, and moors in all weathers and in all seasons share much in common. Perhaps I thought of moors and I thought of Haworth and I thought of the Brontës.
I’ve been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I’ve been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I’ve been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I’ve been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I’ve been where the poplar is springing
From the fair inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.
And perhaps today – when it is indeed much improved outside, though maybe not quite scintillating – perhaps all of that was still in my head when I read Margaret’s prompt this morning for Ragtag Saturday: verdant.
A Corner of Cornwall 
The garden has loved all the rain and today the sun is warming, bringing on the blooms a bit further. Thank you for the introduction to Charlotte Bronte ‘s ‘tiny poem’ – so lovely. 🙂
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Yes, this is ideal weather for bringing on the blooms. (And in our case, bringing on the weeds.) The poem is charming, isn’t it. It’s the size that fascinates me: the paper on which it is written is about 3″ square. Such patience!
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Imagine having been able to write such a lovely little poem at that age! Makes you sick, doesn’t it? 😉 Yes, I guess all the rain is the price we pay for our beautifully verdant landscape. I don’t mind really – I like to get soaked in the rain. I’ve always suspected I’m part Ent…
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Verdancy (is that the word?) comes at a price – a damp one! But I too, like the rain. Just not when the tennis is on! 😀
As for Charlotte’s precocious poetry – imagine having not only the talent but also the patience to write it on one of the Bronte’s ‘tiny’ pieces of paper. I believe this was written on a piece just 3″ square!
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Maybe if we made all authors write on 3″ sheets of paper we’d avoid all those saggy middles… 😉
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👍😂
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Gorgeous post, Sandra, and what a treasure that little poem is. I love our ‘interesting weather’ (no wonder we Brits are obsessed with it) and this time of year is really magical as temperatures start to rise. As I type it is both raining and sunny – fingers crossed for a rainbow! 😀
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I hope you got your rainbow, Liz 🙂 🌈 And I agree about our ‘interesting’ weather. I do love the variety. It’s also ideal right now for the garden.
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I think it was just too late in the day in the end, but we often get lovely rainbows (and doubles too) here, so it won’t be long before one appears. 😀
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Think of how the Brontes could have used that money at the time! Lovely little poem.
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Yes indeed! What a difference it could have made!
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Yes it is a beautiful, lyrical poem. I love the verdant theme, everything is fresh and lush at the moment. Having lived in Western Australia for nine years I always appreciate the seasons and greenery. Of course hotter drier places have their own beauty, but you can’t beat our spring and early summer.
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A real contrast for you, Janet, compared with Western Australia! Even over here it won’t be long before the countryside begins to look jaded. This lush verdancy is fleeting 🙂
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That is a vividly captured journey. Charlotte’s poem has multiplied the mood.
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Yes, her little poem is quite charming I think. This period when our countryside is bright and lush and green is relatively short-lived. Soon the colours will fade and look tired. It is a fleeting time and one to be celebrated 🙂
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Beautiful post. Have you read Melissa Harrison’s ‘Rain: Four walks in English weather’? I think it’s your sort of book. I love Melissa Harrison’s writing!
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I have, Margaret, and you’re right – I love her writing. I borrowed Rain from the library but I can see myself having to buy a copy. It’s a book to return to more than once 🙂
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I thought of Melissa Harrison’s lovely essays too. Beautiful Bronte poem- one to cherish. This month so far has been ” water -wobbling blue-sky-puddled” to steal a phrase from Ted Hughes! xxx
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Oh that’s a wonderful description, Pat! We have sunshine right now. But plenty more rain is forecast…. xx
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I’ve never seen that lovely poem before. So apt
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It’s not well-known in itself, Derrick, but made the news when it was sold. Written on a tiny scrap of paper about 3″ square. I am in awe of her patience!
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Even after a few days of rain, when I went out for a walk in the countryside yesterday, it was still quite dry all around. As a farmer’s granddaughter, that always worries me… What a lovely poem, and what a gorgeous picture to go with it.
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The garden is certainly enjoying the rain, and we’re getting much more rain than last year when our local farmers were seriously worried and having to feed the cattle through the summer months. We have lots more rain forecast too. It’s very green here – for the moment!
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This is the second post I see this morning which makes me want to get out in nature. The verdant landscape looks so lovely and the little poem captures the enjoyment of nature beautifully.
I haven’t done my weekly park run for a little while, which means I haven’t seen any greenery. The fun of living in a big city…
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Ah yes, I tell myself that I could never live in a big city or even a town. Then I think whistfully of all the galleries and theatres I’m missing…. Hope you find some greenery soon 🙂
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I love how bright and fresh ‘green’ or various shades of it look after it rains. Thanks for sharing the poem, it wasn’t one I’d read before.
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Yes, rain changes everything: greens are clearer and brighter. It’s a lovely if fleeting time of year. The poem is not well-known but is very charming.
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Can you imagine being able to write a poem like that at 13? Well, maybe you can, with your skills, but I sure can’t! Lovely, and so are your ruminations. (And, once again, I get a thrill because I’ve been to Bodmin Moor!)
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Ha ha – if I HAD been able to write like that aged 13, I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have been able to scribe it as Charlotte did – on a piece of paper just 3 inches square!
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The Brontë siblings’ poetry that I’ve read is often beautiful in its simplicity, a simplicity that could too easily be taken for doggerel because it seems so effortless in its metre and rhyming. But you just know that beneath what will have been carefully drafted and crafted are kernels of truth and heartache and joy.
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Beautifully expressed yourself, Chris. They were extraordinary women.
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What a wonderful time for reflection. The landscape is beautiful. One of my favorite things about rain is the sound of it, but also seeing the rain drops running off flowers and trees after.
Yesterday it rained in my part of the world and it was nice in the evening to snuggle up in a cozy chair with a good book and some tea. I haven’t read any of Brontë’s poetry so thanks for sharing.
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We have plenty of rain at the moment. Slightly more than I would choose! I do agree though, the aftermath is often very lovely 🙂
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Lush greenery is right. Oh so beautiful!
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Very lush and very soggy today, Laurie!
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Such a lovely, lyrical post. I do like the layers, the connections you’ve made and implied. ‘How fortunate we are’, but also, how often we fail to remember that. Nicely put. Like the photo, too.
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Thank you, Cath 🙂 It’s the transience of those moments that stands out for me: those moments when I consciously realise how fortunate I am – despite the rain. Today, I’m much more inclined to grumble about it! 😉
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‘Verdant’ is such a lovely word – taking ‘green’ to a whole new level. There is something about rain that makes one a bit more reflective perhaps. The tiny Charlotte Bronte poem is most engaging, sweet with such a tone of solemnity.
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For me, verdant seems particularly appropriate in temperate climates. Although I know there are parts of S Africa which might be verdant, it’s not the word I would use to describe them. Verdant has a degree of coolness associated with it. Interesting how we each add our peculiarities to certain words without realising it 🙂
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Oh yes I know what you mean – verdant has sort of pastoral connotations that perhaps are missing here in S Africa. Extravagant growth here is often described as lush rather than as verdant …
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