An Afternoon In February

A walk at Riverside Park on "An Afternoon In February" brought to mind the poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  It is part of the Belfry Of Bruges And Other Poems collection.  

The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;

While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;

Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.

Longfellow, the most popular American poet of his time is probably better remembered for Paul Revere's Ride.  I'm not a huge fan of poetry, but I do enjoy Longfellow's poems.  They flow so beautifully, and I find them easy to understand.

Longfellow spent part of his career as a professor at Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine and later at Harvard College in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

In 1854, he retired from teaching, and spent the rest of his life in Cambridge in what was a former headquarters of George Washington.  (The above photo was taken in 1868 by Julia Margaret Cameron.)

As February nears its' end, like many, I can't wait for Spring!

Including this almond tree which is loaded with buds.

A February afternoon in Southern Oregon is a far cry from the climate experienced by Longfellow in Maine and Massachusetts.