This encore post, is part two, from a series I wrote back in February, 2006. Knowest thou What solemn shores of crocus-coloured light, Reared by the sunset in its realm of change, Will mock the dream-lost isles that sirens ward? –Clark Ashton Smith Many of us are seeing the first welcome signs of Spring and … Read more
Another encore post, this time, part one of two that I wrote back in February, 2006. Behold, this crocus is a withering flame… — Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Barren Spring, 1870 The signs of Spring are becoming increasingly insistent and unmistakable. In my garden, purple and yellow crocuses are opening in the noon sun, before slipping … Read more
There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are different from the things we do. – Freya Stark, The Journey’s Echo How did you do on the workaholism quiz from Friday? Frankly, I am busted on almost every question. Having done this work before, you would think I would have been much … Read more
The leaves fall patiently Nothing remembers or grieves The river takes to the sea The yellow drift of leaves. –Sara Teasdale Today, according to the Celtic Tree calendar, we enter the month of The Reed. The Celtic Tree Year is divided into thirteen lunar months. Each has a tree (or in this case, a shrub) … Read more
Humor is the affectionate communication of insight. — Leo Rosten
Then for the teeming quietest, happiest days of all!The brooding and blissful halcyon days!— Walt Whitman Alcyone (“al-SIGH-ah-nee”) was the daughter of Aeolus, King of the Winds, and the wife of Ceyx, King of Thessaly. Alcyone and Ceyx (pronounced “SEE-ecks”) loved each other devotedly and were never willingly apart. Nevertheless, a time came when Ceyx … Read more
On winter nights, when the moon is high, wait by the track at Camelot.Though nothing catches your eye except shade and moon shadows, you may hear them ride by:Arthur and his men, hoofbeats clattering, with their horns and their hounds on their way to hunt. — Exploring King Arthur’s Britain by Denise Stobie Except for … Read more
Diana Hunting, by Hans Makart Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh –He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! — Rudyard Kipling The Wild Hunt has been an apparition that has been observed by countless generations, from one end of Europe to the other, and even brought over to … Read more
Death, the dreadful hunter, is on the track of mankind throughout the world and he will not give up on any spoor until he has laid hands on that he has been chasing so long. — The Metres of Boethius, Alfred the Great, c. 849 – 899 C.E. This dark period from Samhain to the … Read more
The Mexican, in contrast, is familiar with death. (He) jokes about it, caresses it,sleeps with it, celebrates it. It is one of his favorite toys and his most steadfast love. — Octavio Paz (1914 – 1998) Nobel Laureate for Literature, 1990 In many parts of Mexico, the Day of the Dead is observed on more … Read more