Growing up in Maine, you understand at an early age that beauty is easy to find. In the tide pools, in the pines, the moss, the fog, the sky... it is everywhere. You also believe that you can find beauty anywhere you go, because of this upbringing. I've been in Nebraska for two weeks now and it seems only fitting that I start this blog with a poem about this place, from a great observer of beauty, Nebraska's Ted Kooser. Enjoy.
In the Corners of Fields
Ted Kooser
Something is calling to me
from the corners of fields,
where the leftover fence wire
suns its loose coils, and stones
thrown out of the furrow
sleep in warm litters;
where the gray faces
of old No Hunting signs
mutter into the wind,
and dry horse tanks
spout fountains of sunflowers;
where a moth
flutters in from the pasture,
harried by sparrows,
and alights on a post,
so sure of its life
that it peacefully opens its wings.
Wonderful.
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