Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices that, if I then had waked after long sleep, will make me sleep again.
And then, in dreaming, the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
(I went with Becky, our friend Tim and his son and son’s friend, to see the last performance of The Tempest at the California Shakespeare Festival last night. It was literally spectacular. The coyotes began singing at the beginning of Act III Scene 2, as Caliban plots.)
Delicious artistic sensibilities on the part of the coyotes. The Tempest was an excellent choice for their contribution.
I’ve spent much of my life indoors, due to chronic illness. But two things I’ve experienced in my life made roots grow out of my feet and into the ground, or it felt that way, and probably left some part of me rooted in those spots still. One was hearing what my mother said was a wood thrush sing, on a Pennsylvania mountain. The other was hearing a wolf pack sing, from a few feet away. (They were captive; caged together in a relatively small enclosure, though they’ve since been moved to a more appropriate reserve.)
An elegant way to reveal your inner monster, Chris. I only hope that the non-English majors in your audience don’t mistake the words for yours, and wonder if you’ve taken a one-way trip to the 17th century.
Though if you have, please send back directions.
Peace, J
All i’ll say, Jarrett, is that Caliban’s lines:
You taught me language; and my profit on’t Is, I know how to curse.
reminded me uncomfortably of this blog of late,
I was born on a river that runs north, fifty years later I’m still watching those mountains grow.
I am afraid of the coyotes, at least in sympathy for my cats, who are night-time gopherers…
my small college in los angeles backed up against an open hillside. when i lived at the dorm of highest elevation, we often heard the coyotes.
one summer, a small crew of us worked on the yearbook for a few weeks after everyone else left. we were behind deadline, and worked into the night. the night of my 21st birthday, we took a little break from paste-ups [yes, it was that long ago] and saw an entire family of coyotes — 2 adults, and 2-3 little guys — meandering through the quad, a nice hike down from the hillside. they looked a little irritated when they noticed us, but apparently decided we posed no threat. it was pretty cool.
i was even an english major, but the coyotes are among my starkest memories. how sweet that they joined the chorus for your cal shakes event!