Saturday, December 08, 2007

Winter wilderness

Winter is here and its the coldest November December in 5 years here. When we had the warmest July in 5 years we all worried about climate change.
I love winter but even I have to pry myself to get out when its below -10 C yet when I do I love it...I love the cold..the coffee afterward.
Now some of us go to San Salvador and lie on the beach and some of us go outside and watch our breath come alive from our mouths and feels the snow crunch beneath our feet.
Maybe I just love coffee...
I do have a confession... I shot this picture from the plane as I returned from three days in San Fran... while they froze here....

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Poetry Saturday

" The top two are from Peggy's Cove in the recent hurricane.... the bottom two are from my trip there in July.... Why the sea would call us is hard to fathom...but it does....
" Exiled”

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea;

Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray,
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.

Always before about my dooryard,
Marking the reach of the winter sea,
Rooted in sand and dragging driftwood,
Straggled the purple wild sweet pea.

Always I climbed the wave at morning,
Shook the sand from my shoes at night,
That now am caught beneath big buildings,
Stricken with noise, confused with light.

If I could hear the green piles groaning.
Under the windy, wooden piers,
See once again the bobbing barrels,
And the black sticks that fence the weirs;

If I could see the weedy mussels
Crusting the wrecked and rotting hulls,
Hear once again the hungry crying
Overhead, of the wheeling gulls;

Feel once again the shanty straining
Under the turning of the tide,
Fear once again the rising freshet,
Dread the bell in the fog outside,

I should be happy!—that was happy
All day long on the coast of Maine.
I have a need to hold and handle
Shells and anchors and ships again.

I should be happy, that am happy.
Never at all since I came here.
I am too long away from water;
I have a need of water near.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay