...when a Nightingale sings at the end and beyond of my garden with such strong tone and melodies it transports me to heaven. I yearn to transcend all levels of humanity. I want to lie down on dry linen on wet clover of lawn, where there is no moon, but where its light transforms trees on the horizon, black silhouettes in darkness. A cloud canopy, like lightnightness hovers above the earth, juxtaposed against the bright electric illumination from an atelier, a workshop which is not. I feel as if I could listen to her/his song throughout the night but my feet are wet on the grass now that the rain has stopped. A little while ago there was a definite HALT to the song. I thought "that is it... the nightingale has gone to sleep until the dawn chorus". Then it re-commenced. He/she sings triumphantly, beckoning such night lunacy.
I JUST LOVE IT... and what would I rather do if I were to have choices at this moment in time... yes, listen to the transcendence of the universe by this nightingale and by day hear the cuckoo, which I can tell you has already tried to change its tune, not in June, but in May... cuckold that it is!
So with my living room door open I hear the nightingale as I type; it is a poignant luxury, but I MUST get to sleep at two in the morning.
This bird is so magnificent....voluptuous... enigmatic....romantic.... edifying!!!!!!
This posting will interrupt all others pre-posted!!!
I don't care because it is a musicality that I wish to physically share with everyone!!!!
Thank you to my friends for keeping me awake so long......
If I have to die then let me hear the song of the nightingale in my hazel hurdle coffin. Let me hear the nightingale singing as scattered I am to four winds across French soil, Southwold as well as the North and Atlantic Oceans...Separate me as the tunes of the nightingale separates into its different voices.
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It would be lovely to hear what you think.