Aconitum carmichaeli 'Arendsii' & Hosta 'Whirlwind' 11 November 2022

 I am not going to translate the four parts in Spanish below. But be patient as I follow it with the rest of the blog in English. Suffice to point out that Argentine poet Alfonsina Storni equated the four seasons of the year with the relationship with a loved one in her lovely Poemas de Amor. In the last 4^th part above winter is described as one of confusion, darkness and sadness. This is what I am experiencing now that fall is moving into winter.

1ª parte: Ensueño (o Primavera). (Según RAE: Acepción 1. Sueño o representación fantástica de quien duerme. Acepción 2. Ilusión, fantasía). Esta parte comienza ya casi terminando la primavera (el primer verso del primer poema inicia: “acababa noviembre cuando te encontré…”), ad portas del verano. La primavera, sabemos, es la época del renacer, del comienzo de un nuevo ciclo. Los árboles estaban verdes, el cielo estaba azul… Después de un largo invierno, de una larga espera, de una larga siesta, aparece el sujeto amado, y aparece, literalmente, por todas partes. El final de este “Ensueño” indica un cuarto lleno de suspiros y alientos: ¿Es él quien llega de visita?

2ª parte: Plenitud (o Verano). (Según RAE: Acepción 1. Totalidad, integridad o cualidad de pleno. Acepción 2. Apogeo, momento álgido o culminante de algo). La dicha fulgurante comienza con un ambiguo, y a la vez certero grito: “¡Amo!”. Evidentemente dedica este y los demás versos a su amado; pero, ¿está amando?, ¿él es su amo? Los deseos de correr la consumen. Se reconoce en el éxtasis más profundo. Es el verano. Los días se llenan de luz y energía. El cuerpo vibra en cada poro, en cada napa… El recuerdo es atesorado, cada imagen, cada roce, cada intención no realizada: “Tu amor me había cubierto el corazón de musgo”… Se despide del verano respirando la humedad nocturna y olorosa.

3ª parte: Agonía (u Otoño). (Según RAE: Acepción 1. Angustia y congoja del moribundo; estado que precede a la muerte. Acepción 2. Pena o aflicción extremada. Acepción 3. Angustia o congoja  provocadas por conflictos espirituales. Acepción 4. Ansia o deseo vehemente. Acepción 5. Lucha, contienda). Comienza en tono de reproche, o de resignación: “Por veces te propuse viajes absurdos, Vámonos, te dije, adonde estemos solos…”. El calor se aleja. La luz se aleja. El viento sopla y el frío amenaza con llegar. No hay otra acepción, no hay duda posible. El verano ya se ha ido y comienza el viaje de retorno hacia la hibernación, hacia un ocultamiento del que ya se ha salido antes, y, aparentemente, también entrado. Hay distancia, imposibilidad, ausencia: “al caudal temblante y profundo de mi vida”.

 4ª parte: Noche (o Invierno). (Según RAE: Acepción 1. Parte del día comprendida entre la puesta del sol y el amanecer. Acepción 3. Confusión, oscuridad o tristeza).

Alfonsina Storni (22 May 1892 – 25 October 1938) was a proto feminist. When I read her poetry some years ago, it reminded me of Rosemary who told me to fry my own eggs, hem my own jeans and sew on the buttons. She was not going to do this for me.

  Alfonsina Storni - I am going to sleep

In our first year of our marriage, when funds were low, I was too stupid to understand that I was fed a good meal (she did used to cook in our youthful marriage) at the expense of her having little left for herself.

Storni’s book Poemas de Amor I purchased in Buenos Aires in December 2021. I found myself sitting in a wing chair in the lobby of the Hotel Claridge in front of the elevator. It seemed to me that any moment the door would swing open and Rosemary would step out as we would then go on an adventure on Calle Florida. It was not possible, of course, but at the same time as I was reading Storni’s slim volume I felt myself falling in love with Rosemary all over again.

Falling in love with Rosemary all over again 

Today, 11 November my personal remembrance is not for soldiers at war as none in my family ever went to war. My remembrance is for all the fallen members of my family and friends who are all gone; and of course, a remembrance of Rosemary and our 52 years together.

But because of Storni I now see that relationship as being the four seasons of the year. We lived a spring and summer and her decline in 2020 and until her death on the 9^th of December was our fall.

Her death and the winter now in my garden is Storni’s winter of grief.

I find myself listless and I rarely read or watch the news. I skip now most of my NYTimes. I walk Niño and feed him and Niña. Nothing else of importance during any of these days inspires me for action.

Today when I saw the last blue flower of Rosemary’s favourite aconitum and the lovely colour of my fall hosta leaves I thought of writing this blog and of my reflection of Rosemary and I living four seasons in our life together.

She did not survive winter to be alive in spring. Indigenous peoples have the belief that if you survive winter you will live in spring, and, like a perennial perhaps another full year.

As I write this with winter coming I wonder where I will be in the spring.

It could be oblivion with Rosemary.