MNb wrote on 05/21/09 at 21:47:30:
Markovich wrote on 05/21/09 at 19:16:13:
What, the humidity, the mosquitoes and the incessant jungle drums don't drive you mad?
No. The jungle drums offer a better background when I want to sleep than say American (c)rap. And I live a few miles from the nearest swamp. This is not Louisiana!
I prefer humidity to frozen toes.
Oh I understand, and no doubt it has a very comfortable appeal. I don't begrudge your enjoyment there in the least. But like many North Americans, I take a lot of pleasure in the vivid turning of our seasons.
Oh let us taste the red October berries
While sunlight yet upon the meadow spills,
And butterflies still flit about like fairies,
And goldenrod still nods upon the hills.
And let us, like its ever-creaking crickets,
Be happy through October's amber day
And play beside its red and purple thickets
As long as amber, red and purple stay.
For soon enough the berry-canes are barren,
And soon enough the meadow-crickets die,
And soon the rabbits in the meadow warren
Look out upon a cold and leaden sky.
So let us pluck the red and ripened berries
And walk along the mellow meadow ways,
And let us take, while red October tarries,
The savor of its berries, and its days.