Golden Day

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nothing Gold Can Stay

When I woke up this morning, the mountain outside my window was golden. This is a glorious element of spring in eastern Pennsylvania, but it is transient… a single day when the leaves of the forest trees begin to unfold toward the light of the warming sun. They don’t open themselves a lush midsummer’s green – they unfold a magnificently golden hue. I vowed to appreciate this moment, because within the space of a day, it will be gone.

As a young girl, I was much influenced by the poetry of Robert Frost. What came to mind on this Saturday morn was the poem: “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” Happiness, or that feeling of gold warmth within, is something we all strive for, but the moments we attain joy are always fleeting. It is much the same with nature as in day to day ‘human’ life.

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
As dawn goes down to day,
Nothing gold can stay.

~Robert Frost

We spend our entire lives seeking happiness. We might reach this euphoric feeling for an instant, or for a day, but it always slips away from us like tendrils of warmth from a waning sun. We just can’t hold it.

Through reading fiction, we can experience moments of joy and happiness in the very moment the character does. We crave it greedily, we are happy to live vicariously through the written word. Fiction brings us joy. When you feel this joy blooming, don’t fret over losing it, or it is already lost. Embrace the moment, and write about it! Today, I looked at the golden mountains, and knew happiness. I can only wonder what tomorrow will bring.

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About writerjessicaleigh

Author, free-lance writer, business owner, mother of four, and environmental enthusiast, Jessica Leigh resides in Kempton, Pennsylvania, surrounded by her beautiful Appalachian forest along a meandering trout stream.
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1 Response to Golden Day

  1. Jan says:

    Sounds to me, Miss Jessica Leigh, like you have a bead on exactly what Robert Frost was expressing in “Nothing Gold Can Stay”.

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