The rite of spring, part four; general stores; and what constitutes a po'boy sandwich
charlesmandel.substack.com
This is…spring? It could be Sheila’s Brush, the traditional snow following Saint Patrick’s Day, but it landed two days early. After silence, the birds return. In this particular rite of spring, it’s not the hesitancy of Stravinsky’s woodwinds that fill my ears, but rather the sound of eagles wheeling across the sky; the hoarse whistle of a red-tailed hawk, and the hunting calls of owls. Even though, technically, it’s still winter, spring is on the land.
This line is wonderful: "These general stories mix a dash of hippie with a smattering of yuppie and end up with something fairly funky." Poetic and rhythmic. Nice!
Spring ephemerals !
This line is wonderful: "These general stories mix a dash of hippie with a smattering of yuppie and end up with something fairly funky." Poetic and rhythmic. Nice!
Lyrical and lovely reflections on spring, Charles.
I think I'd beat you at cribbage though. F
I love the optimism in this post.