I have always wanted to name our house. It is an interesting little place, built by Barry's grandfather, Pat Mason. (I will post pictures of the house at some point.) We love history and literature and this spills over into our (developing) romantic flea market cottage decorating style.
A few semesters ago I took a Modern Poetry course and was studying the symbolism of birds in poetry. The Thrush snared my interest. Such an everyday bird but with a beautiful song. In Whitman's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd the thrush represents the voice of America crying out at the death of Lincoln. The thrush also symbolizes poetry and the imaginative spark that brings about its creation. With such symbolism what name could be better for the history major and his wife, the English major, in the little cottage home where stories, poetry, and art is created by all its inhabitants. We are all thrush and we each have our own song.
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