The Rebelle blog

THE trees along this city street Save for the traffic and the trains, Would make a sound as thin and sweet As trees in country lanes. And people standing in their shade Out of a shower, undoubtedly Would hear such music as is made Upon a country tree. Oh, little leaves that are so dumb Against the shrieking city air, I watch you when the wind has come,-- I know what sound is there. - Edna St. Vincent Millay Some of my most favourite illustrations that accompany certain poems happen to feature trees in them. Cassia Fistula also known as Amaltaas in India, Copper Pod, Laburnum with its golden shower is also described in a lot of novels written by C.S.Lewis, Oscar Wilde, even J.R.R.Tolkien. In urban spaces, increasingly as there is a shortage of space for housing, on-site trees are often cut by builders and property developers to build a concrete community. We don't even feel the lack ...

I attended a star gazing session on the weekend and it was a wonderful night. I have always wanted to lie under the night sky and look at the stars and just be there. How starry nights are romanticised in movies! Its cold and the bright twinkle in the sky is a gentle reminder and assurance that the best things in life are always in front of us, only we need to see them through the dust speckled invisible glasses we wear all the time. I always think that the stars have a mysterious charm over us. How many of us succumb to this charm? In fact many don't even register its presence. I felt so good to be there and, because I tend to get emotional over nature's many wonders, I couldn't stop tears streaming my eyes. After spending an entire night and early morning spotting comets, constellations, star clusters and Jupiter, I felt I could remain glued to the telescopes all night and day long. An incredible experience of my life. Later in the evening, I picked up 'The Selecte...

The railroad track is miles away,        And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day        But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes by,        Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see its cinders red on the sky,        And hear its engine steaming. My heart is warm with friends I make,        And better friends I'll not be knowing; Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,        No matter where it’s going. (Source: poem-a-day- Academy of American Poets) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Edna St Vincent Millay was born in 1892 and she died in 1950. Quite Young. I am fascinated by her poems and Edna herself. She's so mysterious. So far, I haven't been able to procure any of her written works yet. This poem appea...