Singeth the kettle...

Today was a glorious day! The sun shone bright and there was an invigorating breeze with a whiff of melting in it. It feels like a new beginning as I once again begin classes. I generally am a little excited with every fresh start of a semester (this, of course, does not usually last for very long...) but today more than ever when I walked outside between each class and lingered in the square under the trees I sensed the joy of this fresh start on a fresh day.

This day was a wonderful gift and I am enjoying the effortless warmth I experience as a result of this unusually mild spell however, in my mind there's something wrong when I see green grass in January. As much as I enjoy spring weather, there are aspects of winter weather that I also appreciate.

Also, it will take some time and cold weather before the Canal is in any state to be enjoyed (beyond aesthetically) this winter. At this time many enjoyable winter sports are out of the question and there is another aspect to the issue: the loss we have of the comfort of coming inside from the cold. There is nothing quite like the feeling of comfort that comes from being warm and cosy by a fire or wrapped around a steamy mug of some wonderful beverage while the wind rages outside. One can only truly enjoy hot chocolate to the full after being tired out from some romp in the snow and being presented with it upon one's arrival inside to warm up and dry off.

So in this spirit I have a song that may hopefully remind the weather of its proper office or, failing that, may remind us of wonderful times we have enjoyed during years gone by.

A Canadian Folk Song

The doors are shut, the windows fast,
Outside the gust is driving past,
Outside the shivering ivy clings,
While on the hob* the kettle sings.
Margery, Margery, make the tea
Singeth the kettle merrily.

The streams are hushed up where they flowed,
The ponds are frozen along the road,
The cattle are housed in shed and byre
While singeth the kettle on the fire.
Margery, Margery make the tea
Singeth the kettle merrily.

The fisherman on the bay in his boat
Shivers and buttons up his coat;
The traveller stops at the tavern door,
And the kettle answers the chimney's roar.
Margery, Margery, make the tea
Singeth the kettle merrily.

The firelight dances upon the wall,
Footsteps are heard in the outer hall,
And a kiss and a welcome that fill the room,
And the kettle sings in the glimmer and gloom.
Margery, Margery, make the tea
Singeth the kettle merrily.
-William Wilfred Campbell

*One of my material ambitions is one day to have a hob that I might put my kettle there to sing!