a thousand miles of dead grass

First stop is Gastonia, North Carolina. Not the most exotic place in the whole universe, but it is does contain residence of my grandmother. And we did get a tornado last night at 3 am.

Also, notice the photo above. Irises used to be my favourite flower when I was younger. (I still like them a lot, but I don't know if I could say they are still my favourite.) On of my great grandmothers lived in Georgia and when she died and they were selling the house my grandmother went to Georgia and dug the irises from her garden up for me. I replanted them in our garden in Asheville and took care of them. When we moved to Ireland we dug them up and my grandmother replanted them in her garden in Gastonia to keep them for me whenever I settle (if I ever settle). So this is one of my dear irises, though in May they are no longer in their peak.

But before the tornadoes and irises and pimiento cheese (did I mention the pimiento cheese?) I had to leave Chapel Hill. Each time I leave Chapel Hill I am sadder. (The first time I left for Christmas I was overjoyed to be gone for 3-4 weeks, so that doesn't necessarily mean much.)

Mostly, it is the people in Chapel Hill that I hate to leave, and now that I am a little further along in my education I know more people who are leaving not to come back.

I was taking down all the posters/poems/pictures on my wall in my dorm room on Tuesday and I came to Ezra Pound's "Taking Leave of a Friend."

Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.

Mind like a floating white cloud.
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each other as we are departing.

In general I like Pound's quotes more than his poems (he does have possibly the best name ever bestowed on any baby. I'd take it any day.) But I do like this one.

I am ready to escape America and Americana for the summer. I decided today that I enjoy permanent faint levels of culture shock no matter where I go. It is kind of nice actually, because they are quite faint but enough to jolt me in and out of reality every once in a while.