Friday, June 5, 2020
Wood Thrush / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 including shipping
WHEN WE LIVED IN MAINE, in a town called Bolster's Mills, we often heard the most beautiful birdsong emanating from the woods up the road from our house.
It was a song that sounded like dawn, and like water, and like diamonds and like stars sparkling in the clearest of night skies. It was ethereal, and liquid and startling in its beauty.
It was the song of the wood thrush, and you can hear it here -
There are birds with more complicated songs, and maybe with more melodic ones, but somehow, the wood thrush sings to my heart, and always makes me feel as though I could soar.
"If you have a talent, use it in every which way possible. Do not hoard it. Do not dole it out like a miser. Spend it lavishly like a millionaire intent on going broke."
- Brenda Francis
June 05, 2020
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