October 1st, 2014

granada holmes

Birches, by Robert Frost

It's that time of year where my mind almost invariably turns to Robert Frost's poem "Birches." Lovely crisp weather here in New York. To commemorate I thought I'd try to record a reading.

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To be brutally honest, I'm not overly happy with this. I think I need a better microphone than the one native to my PC - maybe there's a sound recorder app one can put on a cell phone? And more than that, I'm amazed by what a skill set podficcing is - To just read through without pausing or second-guessing, and to learn how to read to enunciate! It's really very hard, and not a skill I've developed. People like Jela and all the other podficcers out there definitely have my admiration.

On the other hand, it's me trying to put what meaning I can on one of my favorite poems, I've been told some people around here like learning what I look and sound like, so maybe hearing where I choose to break it up, or just hearing my voice, would be the kind of thing some people might enjoy. I hope you find this enjoyable, or at least interesting, from that angle. :-)

The poem itself is beautiful, though, and if you want a proper aesthetic experience I'd really recommend you read it for yourself and let your own mind's ear play with it. I'll put it below a cut.

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And do yourself a favor: head over to Google Images and search for "birch swinger." There are some simply astounding images of birch trees bent low with the ice.