Typhoon Lionrock

As the powerful rainbands of typhoon Lionrock drench Hong Kong, confining us all to homes, forcing upon us all a hiatus from the breakneck pace that the city usually runs at, the mind tries to slow down, numb from the sudden jolt of deceleration, and gets into its old habit of ruminating on the futility of all worldly endeavours.

Futile thoughts about the futility of it all! Phew!

A E Housman writes in 'A Shropshire Lad' about a fine workday morning when he walks to the fields towards the rising sun -

** "When smoke stood up from Ludlow, And mist blew off from Teme, And blithe afield to ploughing Against the morning beam I strode beside my team," **

A thought occurs to him while he whistles away happily on his way to work. A singing blackbird - that's what he calls the niggling doubt in his mind...

** 'The blackbird in the coppice Looked out to see me stride, And hearkened as I whistled The trampling team beside, And fluted and replied:

‘Lie down, lie down, young yeoman; What use to rise and rise? Rise man a thousand mornings Yet down at last he lies, And then the man is wise.’ **

"Futile are these pursuits, what use are they, when all you will do one day is leave everything behind!" sings the blackbird!

Pointless pondering, he believes, and kills the blackbird heartlessly!

** I heard the tune he sang me, And spied his yellow bill; I picked a stone and aimed it And threw it with a will: Then the bird was still. **

And then it dawns upon him that no matter how futile it may feel, that's the path charted, and to relish it is the best way to be!

** Then my soul within me Took up the blackbird’s strain, And still beside the horses Along the dewy lane It sang the song again:

‘Lie down, lie down, young yeoman; The sun moves always west; The road one treads to labour Will lead one home to rest, And that will be the best.’ **

The typhoon will leave us alone tomorrow, and we will all be back at what we ought to. The thoughts will be put aside merrily and the pace will be reset!