Red Bat Photography
Folksonomy > birds
October 8th, 2011

This post is Part 2 of a 3-part series. Read Part 1 – Read Part 2 – Read Part 3

What I will remember the most about this wedding ceremony is the pair of white doves Gladys and Ed released at the very end. I had always wanted to see someone do this and I didn’t even know it was going to happen until they brought out the two white baskets. Now I want to release some birds myself. It looked like so much fun.

THE WHITE BIRDS

W.B. Yeats

Would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.

A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!

I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!

October 12th, 2010

This post is Part 2 of a 3-part series. Read Part 1 – Read Part 2 – Read Part 3

This is a photography blog, so it’s understandable that many of you skip right over the text in these posts and just look at the photos (Hi, Peter!) It’s true that nothing I can say here will tell the story of the post-ceremony festivities as well as the photos do. But just in case you have a slowish internet connection and experience a slight delay while thirtysomething photos load, I’ll give you one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems to read while you wait.

I’ll admit that outside of the bird theme, this poem doesn’t have any obvious connection to love or marriage or the photography of those things, but if you just picture those gorgeous last two lines as applying to the soaring, effervescent, playful love between Scott and Lindsey, to their launch into married life, you’d have the right idea. As for all the lines that come before those two, the eating raw worms and such- well, things like that probably happen in Felton all the time.

A Bird came down the Walk —
He did not know I saw —
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass —
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass —

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around —
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought —
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home —

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam —
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.