I have had my Early American Literature students make a slide show, snapping photos of what it means to "see—New Englandly." Then they add quotes from writers, such as Emily Dickinson, Anne Bradstreet, Emerson, and Thoreau. Writers often talk about a sense of place—Dickinson's New England, Aragon's Paris, and Wallace Stegner's West. To me, this woodpile, which I spotted near my home, captures something about the New England Yankee's utilitarianism, early Puritan roots, and wry sense of humor.
My Maine Yankee grandfather used to pick up pennies on the sidewalk during walks when he was in his 80s and gave me electric blankets and silverware the bank gave him for opening a new account, probably to deposit those pennies and see the interest on them grow.
For your enjoyment, here's Emily Dickinson's poem:
The Robin's my Criterion for Tune --
Because I grow -- where Robins do --
But, were I Cuckoo born --
I'd swear by him --
The ode familiar -- rules the Noon --
The Buttercup's, my Whim for Bloom --
Because, we're Orchard sprung --
But, were I Britain born,
I'd Daisies spurn --
None but the Nut -- October fit --
Because, through dropping it,
The Seasons flit -- I'm taught --
Without the Snow's Tableau
Winter, were lie -- to me --
Because I see -- New Englandly --
The Queen, discerns like me --
Provincially --
* I am a Dickinson fan and traveled to Amherst, Massachusetts, last fall for a conference of the Association for Contemplative Mind in Higher Education (ACMHE). A colleague and I got to visit Dickinson's home, stand in her bedroom, compare versions of her poems, and—the part that felt strange—set my GPS for her address. And now excuse me while I order my wood (pellets) for the winter.
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