Ruth and Sophia were looking at a train on the railroad, half a mile away and a few hundred feet above us.
Although this image has no real bearing upon the subject of the poem, when I first looked at it on the computer I though of Lawrence Ferlinghetti's Wild Dreams of a New Beginning. Here are a few lines that seems most fitting:
"...
Eyes smell flowers and become them
...
the washed land awakes again to wilderness
the only sound a vast thrumming of crickets"
and here is the full text for those with the inclination to read the entire poem:
Wild Dreams of a New Beginning
This is one of the biggest, brightest reasons that I love living in the country. There are thousands more in the night sky
Boggy Blogging
It is always a little uncomfortable for me when I talk to someone and they say that they read my blog. I'm not too comfortable with people praising my work, though fortunately, that is seldom an issue. Instead it is that all of my worthwhile stories and anecdotes end up either here or on Twitter (http://twitter.com/aristeos). What little wit I can muster I pour into my posts (yes folks, this is the best I can do), so I'm forced to try to come up with some new and interesting topic that I haven't blogged yet.
Capistrano has Swallows, The Tower of London has Ravens, We have...
Living on the plains of North Central Montana, like anyplace, has its ups and downs. There are the winters, the hot dry summers, and the wind (you know, it makes the mountains sound like folks were up there dyin'). However there is one good thing we've got, one of my favorites. Something that most places have and likely take for granted. But sometimes things that are commonplace in one area become near miraculous in another. Frogs. I know, every place that has water has the slimy little guys, but that's the thing, we don't have water, not regularly at least.
Why is it that churches seem so determined to ruin Christianity?
Ruth, Sophia and I recently attended an "infant dedication" at a Foursquare Church. Dedicating your newborn to raised in your faith with the belief of a loving God is an idea I understand, and for the most part approve of. I wholeheartedly believe this to be the intention of the parents who were dedicating their baby. The thing that scares me however is the venue. I will freely admit to having a problem with the Foursquare denomination and all the the related Pentecostal and Charismatic belief systems.
Entirely Self-obsessed post about Cancer and Super-Powers
I really don't like talking about myself too much. Regular readers of this website may well disagree, and its very existence would argue against that statement. But it is more or less true. However, when certain things are going on in your life it can be awfully hard to write, much less think about anything else. That's where I'm at right now.
I'm coming to eat you, you spiny little bastards
Is it ironic that this year we have had a mostly pleasant spring, but since I haven't had cows to take care of, I haven't been working outside enjoying it? Ruth and I have an ongoing argument about the meaning of irony, but I think that the first nice calving season in years--just after we sell the cows--counts.
It has been quite an adjustment living without the cows, but I have to admit that the opportunity to travel in February and March have been a rather welcome upside.