Saturday, June 2, 2007

A Whisper That Dies and Begins Again...

"A mist-like rain spread a blue, tremulous dusk over the garden. The black boughs of the larch, the drooping leafy veil of the birch, the rounded crowns of the beech stood like shadows breathed on a background of gliding mist, while the clipped yew-trees shot upward like the black columns of a roofless temple."

"The stillness was that of a deep grave, save for the raindrops, falling light as thistledown, with a faint, monotonous sound like a whisper that dies and begins again and dies there behind the wet, glistening trunks."


~ Text: Jens Peter Jacobsen, Marie Grubbe, 1876

~ Images: Harold Sohlberg, A Flowery Meadow in the North, 1905; Prince Eugen, The Forest, 1892