A Poem for Earth Day

Springtime on the River in Leo

We were there, looking out at a serene, reflective river. Then, "that's a beaver!" said the one. A thick, sturdy brown creature paddled out from under the pier floating cow-style, doing a dog paddle, as if such a thing were possible from an aquatic rodent mammal. It cruised around and about, almost lollygagging along the shoreline. Spring water was calm and I agreed: maybe it was a beaver or an extremely large muskrat.

Now, I sat not moving in April and feeling guilty, perhaps a Catholic-mother type of guilty or a Midwestern-Christian type of guilty, just as bad. As if the world didn't want me to sunbathe or listen to the birds sing: the wren, the robin, the finch, the catbird, the goose and duck. Red bud trees curved like bonsai after their limbs had been broken by the winter's ice and snow. No leaves yet, their tiny pink buds were dots still, their bright brilliance a promise that was yet to be unveiled.

Yesterday's rainbow sherbet. It was so good. Did I once say 'sher-Bert?' now it has become sorbet, always was. Oh, happy colors. At rainbow's end - we come again -

The birds hammer away. Do they sound loud to themselves? Do their heads vibrate? Paper whites, tulips, daffodils, vinca, lies, untold truths, secrets. "So-and-so needs lots of feedback," meaning 'reassurance,' he said and I thought, as he was talking about a co-worker. Really, I thought.

As for me, I'm glad to hear the distant lull of a trolling motor on a fishing boat far down the waterway. I wait for the beaver/giant muskrat to paddle back by me.

A little girl knocked on the door, asking for someone who wasn't home. She watched me shut the door, carefully lingering: holding her breath, she heavily drew it in, and then let it back out. I saw her as she ran through the front yard and around to the flowering magnolia. Nearly flying past, she reached out and clung to a large blossom attached to a low-hanging limb. Her hand wanted it so badly but she seemed afraid, of being yelled at, any minute: she was new to the neighborhood. Briefly, I saw a moral struggle written on her small face. Sweet, sweet anguish of life. Temptation.

I stayed inside, smiling, watching from a window. Unbeknownst to her, and to the beaver rat - creature on one side of the house, earth child on the other.

The Quiet Man is a classic movie about love and Ireland

Just now, mid-April, the grass is becoming green again in Indiana. It's so pleasant to see spring, with daffodils and paperwhites opening their cheerful faces. Green coming back reminds me of one of my all time favorite movies, The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. Director John Ford won the Academy Award in 1952 for this epic romantic comedy set in rural Ireland. In 2013, the film received recognition from the National Film Archives at the US Library of Congress as being culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant.

In the story, Sean Thornton (played by John Wayne) returns from life in Pittsburgh to his boyhood home of Inisfree, Ireland. He falls in love with fiery redhead Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara). Mary Kate's brother, Squire Will Danaher, does not approve of the courtship, however, and conflict ensues. The story explores Irish customs in a modern setting, and the cinematography in the Irish countryside is breathtaking and won awards. Irish language and traditions are featured and celebrated. The movie is charming and wonderfully acted by an impressive ensemble cast.

Without giving too much away, the couple marry, but after feeling tricked brother Will refuses to pay the dowry that was to accompany the bride. Groom Sean cares nothing about the money and possessions that were promised, but bride Mary Kate cares deeply about her heirloom treasures. She wants her own things about her in her new home in the quaint old cottage - things that included family linens, a spinet piano, an ancient baby cradle, etc. A custom that was so common in Ireland was becoming lost in the post-war days of much of the United States.

Other traditions are woven into the story seamlessly - the gathering and singing in pubs, horse racing, the sale of livestock at a town marketplace, the ways Protestant and Catholic Irish worked out living together as neighbors. Emotions, whether anger, mirth, spirit or love, are portrayed passionately.

The action in the film keeps it moving as well - John Wayne athletically riding his horse, the long walks through the fields, the prolonged choreographed fight scene. The countryside is a character as well - ancient chapel ruins, trout fishing streams, horse carts and trains. It's all a feast for the eyes, ears, and heart.

I wasn't alive in 1952 when this film was created. I can only imagine a United States and a Europe healing from the great wars a few years before. Maybe it's the Irish in me, and the love of the idea of a strong and spirited woman, that makes me rewatch this old classic every few years. I recommend it especially if you enjoy a great musical score, this one featuring some traditional Irish folk songs in addition to songs composed by Victor Young.

Garrison Keillor shines at IPFW Omnibus Series

The creator and host of NPR's "A Prairie Home Companion" graced the stage at the wonderful concert venue Auer Hall, IPFW college campus recently. IPFW, home to both Purdue and Indiana University in Fort Wayne's satellite campus, is nestled in a lovely spot next to the St. Joe River on the city's north side. Keillor at 72 is still a 6' 3" tall, imposing figure and gently, wholly commands the room.

Garrison spoke, sang and paced without stopping for two-and-a-half hours April 1, no fooling. As he did when we saw him at Fort Wayne's Embassy Theatre, he began by singing a Cappella, his deep tenor voice ringing out, sounding stronger and more melodious than it does on his radio show. He chooses a song that most people know, such as a patriotic song, folk song or hymn, and persuades the audience to sing along, which they do willingly.

Garrison orates without notes: telling stories about his beginnings in radio, growing up in Minnesota, and how he started his radio show that continues to this day - begun in 1974. He was born in small Anoka, and in his weekly radio show he bases a fictional town, Lake Wobegon, upon his real experiences as a young man. If you aren't familiar with it, tune in to WBOI 89.1 FM on Saturdays, 6 p.m. His show also features musical guests, skits and ficticious commercials. Story themes are often about Midwesterners, Lutherans, Minnesotans, English majors, cowboys, and the Chatterbox cafe, to name a few.

But that's the radio show - at IPFW Garrison was alone on the stage. He talked about clashing with management in radio over the years: when he would misspeak politically, tell off-color jokes, or otherwise mess up. He talked about writing radio news in college and having it broadcast to no one because the signal was turned off by mistake. He is eloquent and hypnotic, a spellbinding storyteller. I think he is a national treasure. Who knows how long any of us will continue to be around - so check out Garrison Keillor if you get a chance, while you still can. There will be a live taping of A Prairie Home Companion in Goshen, IN on May 2, so that might be a chance to get tickets and see him out on the road.