Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
It’s my honor to begin the first blog post in this new season of my life with a poem that has encouraged me to live life to the fullest without too many regrets. Nothing Gold Can Stay was firmly posted on my dresser mirror in college and continues to be permanently impressed upon my heart. My new blog is about my journey, living and learning – a lifestyle blog. If you subscribe to become a reader, I’ll give you a lot to consider through my stories like Robert Frost gave me through his poetry.
Here’s a little story I wrote not too long ago about the significance of this photo posted above:
I yelled and pointed when I saw it from the distance. I hadn’t seen it in decades, not even when we passed it in December when we took my husband fishing in the thick fog on his birthday. But there it was… the largest wooden structure on the island and as the boat drew closer, the more anxious I became. Some of my best memories as a young child were spent on Dog Island with my family and friends. And the closer we got, the more determined I was to see it up close.
“I can’t get in any closer,” said my husband as waves crashed against the boat. “Yes, you can,” I insisted. No one wanted to jump in and swim to the shore since it was cool and the water was cold. And, if you know me well, you know I’m not a fan of anything cold unless it’s ice cream.
“You can go closer,” I continued to beg. And, then, finally, he got in as close as he could, and I surprised everyone by jumping in wearing my street clothes and swimming ashore. What I saw when I stepped onto the beach brought a sadness over me that cannot be described. The inhabitable inn had been abandoned and weathered from storms and hurricanes.
I reached the top of the sand dune that stood beside it to see the front of the inn and one of the fondest memories of where I once played put a big smile on my face when I saw a huge clump of Spanish bayonet plants flourishing. The plants next to the inn were the only thing that had survived all these years and had multiplied, just like I had. [BIGGER SMILE] I wanted my twin sons to see it, so I turned back to the boat and waved until finally someone dove into the ocean: my husband.
I won’t bore you with all the memories I shared with him as we walked around exploring the island like I often did as a child, but it had indeed changed, just like I had and like Robert Frost indicated in his poem.
The years of my youth on this island remain a deep golden color in my mind, so I didn’t let the changes affect me too much and once I had recollected those memories, I was ready to leave and make more memories with my own family and friends who had ventured out with us that day.
One day, I imagine, my boys will return to the island with their own children, and they’ll have their own stories to tell. Instead of wanting to visit the old inn like I did, they may just jump in the water wearing their street clothes, swim ashore and talk about their crazy mom who loved Dog Island so much and make some fun memories like I did with them that day.
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