Everyday Poetry

Earlier this month I took the opportunity to have a fantastic lunch at Bone Garden Cantina with my dear friend Troy. We had been threatening to catch up since prior to last Thanksgiving but some combination of parental duties and holidays got in the way every time. Thankfully we had a sunny, crisp January afternoon to reminisce and reacquaint after a prolonged absence.

Troy is what some would call an “old soul” but I always think of him as a Renaissance man. He loves denim, Auburn, photography, and his kids. He can hold court on the topic of live-streaming video, but is equally comfortable sharing his favorite verse – from song or poetry – he enjoys good beer, and is a fantastic dancer.

In the extended run-up to our reunion, I was reminded of a poem Troy would quote during the introspective stretches of our March Madness tenure. They were the last two lines of The Summer Day by Mary Oliver.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA
Copyright 1992 by Mary Oliver

The stories we shared that afternoon were reminders of how we were both dealing with our wild and precious lives in ways that were at once similar, but also worlds apart. Troy has had to deal with some immense loss and change over the last 3 pandemic years, and I guess I have too. It felt cathartic and holy to share that space and those stories, but I wouldn’t betray any confidences by sharing them here, only to note that this is why we are friends: we can easily shift from the sublime to the ridiculous over a basket of tortilla chips and some craft beer.

The lunch was all too brief but it did remind me to renew my library card and check out a book of Mary Oliver’s poetry. Here’s a new one (to me) in a similar vein to Troy’s that I hope you’ll also enjoy.

In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

from American Primitive, 1983
Copyright Back Bay Books
by Mary Oliver

I hope everyone will take time this year to cherish their friendships and to read some poetry (Troy and I would both suggest Mary Oliver). The world needs more of both friendships and poetry; now, more than ever.

Oktober Beer Blogging

Since blogging about beer seems to be the only thing I’m capable of sustaining with any level of frequency, I thought I’d update folks with a few items of interest.

First the Brewer’s Advent Calendar which occupied daily beer-blogging last December is now available for purchase at Costco. I snapped it up immediately and I can’t wait to partake again this year.

There are some repeats from last year, but I’m generally very happy with the selection. I may blog about my experiences again, but I doubt I’ll do it daily. Probably just a summary of the delta between 2017 & 2018 with any updates or new opinions about the repeats.

Second I’m very excited for a trip to NYC that Jenn & I are taking next weekend. Not the least of which is because two locations in Manhattan have IHOPS – a Pumpkin Pancake Stout – on tap.

Maybe this sounds gross to you, but it’s absolutely lip-smacking to me. Hopefully I can grab a pint before the kegs run dry.

Lastly here’s a great, brief article in the Wall Street Journal about Women and brewing beer.

If the above links share anything in common, it’s beers that appeal to a broad swath of tastes & palettes.

My hope for beer culture, in light of some recent negative attention that I won’t mention further, is that it retains it’s mass appeal. A drink for everyone and not just the domain of hop-headed, whale-seeking, beer nerds.

Cheers!

Brewer’s Advent Calendar 2017: Day Twenty Three

Today’s beer: Kress Bayrisch Zwickel

This is my first Kellerbier/Zwickel and I think I’m in love!

Something about the yeasty cloudiness, the malt sweetness, and an overall tartness remind me of a mix between a dark wheat beer a Märzen.

For the style I think the color is a little dark but it’s a beaut.

Cloudy and amber. Just perfect.

Kellerbier literally means cellar beer and this is and old style that predates pasteurization and refrigeration by wide margins.

It reminds me of a tankard of beer a character from Middle Earth might quaff.

This was a great addition to the calendar and quite possibly a style I’ll seek out in the future.

Prost!