Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Pic of the Day



The Snow Storm


The Snow Storm

Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803 - 1882


 Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,

Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,

Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air

Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,

And veils the farmhouse at the garden’s end.

The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet

Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit

Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed

In a tumultuous privacy of storm.


   Come see the north wind’s masonry.

Out of an unseen quarry evermore

Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer

Curves his white bastions with projected roof

Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.

Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work

So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he

For number or proportion. Mockingly,

On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;

A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;

Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall,

Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and, at the gate,

A tapering turret overtops the work.

And when his hours are numbered, and the world

Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,

Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art

To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,

Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,

The frolic architecture of the snow.


Monday, November 12, 2018

Pic of the Day



The Fall


Yesterday as I was leaving for the Armistice Day celebration in town, I slipped on the icy outside steps leading from my apartment and fell on my back. I should have been paying closer attention to where I stepped. I got up fairly easily, but as the day dragged on, I became sorer and sorer. I’m fine; there was no major damage that I know of, but I’m still quite sore. I will probably wake up this morning even more sore, but the good thing is that I have the day off and can recuperate.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Pic of the Day





Peace


"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. - Matthew 5:9

The Great War was over. One hundred years ago — just before 3 a.m. on Nov. 11, 1918 — The New York Times received the first bulletin of the Armistice, which had been signed aboard a rail car in a small village in Northern France. A searchlight on the tower of the Times building, previously used to announce election results, gleamed rays across the city until daylight broke.

After more than four years of fighting, 8.5 million soldiers had been killed, including more than 100,000 Americans, and 7 million civilians were dead. In that time, modern warfare was born, and the trenches of Western Europebecame a charnel house.

As news spread of the war’s end, people gathered in parks, streets and town squares, overwhelmed with jubilation on what is now officially celebrated as Armistice Day.