Ralph Waldo Emerson

Nature Ch. I
Personally, I don't know how to take Emerson (with his children in the photo above), but I love so much about this piece. There are so many clear, real moments, parts of the human experience that transcend time. Have any, peering into the black expanse of the night sky, not felt as Emerson?

The murkiness between he and I manifests as he perhaps sees this nature as presence where I lean towards a view of evidence. God knows I love a good tree, but I tend to shy away from the Thoreauesque "pine reverence". Perhaps I am missing the point. Perhaps this is only poetry. In which case, I agree, I agree, I agree. Many have not seen the sun.

"In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows." This seemingly conflicts with a bit in the last paragraph: "For, nature is not always tricked in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit..." I think, however, that both are certainly true, and Emerson alludes to a delineation by mentioning "real sorrows" such as death.

I enjoyed his account of the euphoric phenomenon. "Real sorrows" have quelled that in my own life, but I remember it with fondness, and it was a delight to be reminded. Maybe I missed it, but was this piece written after the death of little Waldo? If so, it is a comfort that Emerson was able to avail nature of a certain solace-affording escapism.

Again, being unsure as how to take Emerson, he seems to oscillate between nature as God and God as nature. I have "street-acquired" passions that perhaps predispose me to bias or at least contribute to defensiveness, but I will try to forego these so I can hear the man.

I liked the relationship of nature to man's solitude and cherished the observation that at times communing with nature can be so keen as to transcend social reality. But, for me at least, it is as ephemeral as the click of the latch on the door leading in. The world waits. It always does.
Lastly, I like the imagery of the "waving of the boughs in the storm". The idea that it is "new and old" is tremendous. It reminds me of my own thoughts. There's a certain collective awareness that is both ancient and new, and this is almost palpable in moments of genuine solitude. While I am not sure I agree with Emerson theologically, I dare say he expressed aspects of the human condition in articulate, precise and beautiful terms.

I really didn't want this to sound like a book report, but unlike Anonymous and his essay on ****, et al., I don't intend to make my personal life a public spectacle. That is what blogs are for!

;-)

Visit Emerson's grave.