Annie and the lark


I wake with a start long before sunrise. The dog bolted out of the house and barked at something presumably nefarious. False alarm.
I should roll over and try for more sleep.
But the mind scrolls through unmet deadlines and endless unfinished business.
I should get up and work on the list.

But instead I reach for Annie Dillard and read her writing life .
As she describes ace pilot Dave Rahm carving the sky in volumes with a biplane, she conjures art out of his prowess. And I see him playing games with gravity: arabesques in a blue sky, impossible slopes, loops, sputters, glides, silences and angles…
A Picasso  sketched on my page.

But  an insistent, happy lark barges into my picture, hops in and rips clear through my vision and her magnificent prose.
His sounds bounce in joyful ripples and crash into letters.
It messes with paragraphs, shreds her lines into disconnected pieces, overwrites her phrases tempo rubato… and her text, emptied of sense, scatters in full round notes.

How can I resist this call to sunrise? To life, clear as dew drops, not distilled, sublimated or reframed, even by a brilliant mind like Annie’s? I can’t.
I jump out of bed to join that winged singer, the unknown artist who gives his all in every song. We will catch the sun color the sky and hear a symphony.

Annie is right when she writes ‘that as you spend your days, of course, is how you live your life.’

Photo credit: berniedup via Foter.com / CC BY-SA

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Life and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Annie and the lark

  1. Dear Emmy,

    Thank you for sharing your lovely morning. I could hear the lark. Sweet verses.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

    • emmylgant says:

      Thank you Rochelle. Larks are a delight, But when they get into an argument the tones rise acutely 😉
      Mornings are special. Rain or shine they are always gentle.
      Hugs

      Like

  2. arjaybe says:

    … and her text, emptied of sense, scatters in full round notes.

    I read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek many years ago and I don’t remember the details, but I remember the sense that she would love what your lark did to her words.-) Thank you for the pictures.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. ceayr says:

    Astounding.
    You have a gift for saying almost nothing in such a way that it takes the breath away.
    Super bien fait, Em, impec*******cable!

    Like

  4. tonyprance says:

    Getting up each morning with roosters is great , but a lark would be really special . Hey Emm, nice one.

    Liked by 1 person

    • emmylgant says:

      Larks can be shrill but by an large they are sweet. They seem to like my neighbours’ trees and the neglect in my garden, so it’s all good for me!
      Roosters always make me laugh. I don’t know why.
      I’m glad to see you here Tony, Thank you.

      Like

  5. srichmond2@cfl.rr.com says:

    Love it. Your word choices are amazing. So easy to read and get totally immersed into the picture being illustrated. I forget where I am at and what I am doing and I tend to daydream there. That is great writing. Suz

    Liked by 1 person

  6. PapaBear says:

    Hi Emm,
    Sounds like a beautiful awakening. Now tell me that the sun was shining and it was 75 degrees and I’ll be jealous. My lark is a cat named Lily, and whether I like it or not, she wakes me promptly at 7:a.m. every morning – weekends included. Good to hear from you again. Hugs !

    Like

  7. Katharine says:

    Loveliness. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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