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Full moon rising: photo by Babette B (Betty B), 19 September 2013
Her laughter that rang out like a spoon struck upon a plate
hung in the air, and all the phones in that lost world went dead at once
the wind blew husklike clouds across an amber moon
..............................
if only, for an instant...
hung in the air, and all the phones in that lost world went dead at once
the wind blew husklike clouds across an amber moon
..............................
if only, for an instant...
Harvest moon rising, Vouliagmeni, Attica, Greece: photo by n.pantazis, 19 September 2013
Full moon (Mid-Autumn Festival, Hong Kong): photo by Albert Dros, 18 September 2013
12 comments:
These words (when there are so few of them it seems wrong or silly somehow to excerpt, but "husklike clouds across an amber moon" says a lot to me, as does "the years/
if only, for an instant...") and pictures really resonate in me. We adopted Jane in China at during Moon Festival time and I remember sitting outside our hotel on a beautiful veranda near the Pearl River with Caroline and the baby watching the moon, listening to a small ensemble of musicians playing on stringed instruments, and trying to figure out all those unknown next steps in dealing with an infant. I also remember in college taking a course in pre-Socratic philosophy and the teacher spinning his once-in-a-lifetime poetic comment about Thales probably arriving at certain conclusions lying on hillsides in Asia Minor looking up at the moonlit sky. Quite often I wish the phones would go dead -- at least the cell phones that have increased stress levels so sharply. Curtis
What a true and lovely intervention breaking in on the wired world.
One can only imagine and remember rather than speak from present experience about that world in which people could actually be assumed to be occupying the space they appeared to be occupying -- as vs. absenting themselves by becoming blank terminal points, passive data entry stations in the overarching control systems which every day render individual and particular responses increasingly irrelevant to what happens in the drifting-beyond-contact monadic free-fall that currently passes for a society.
When within the true mystery (beyond the butchery and money-pipes and sky-aimed dishes set upon homes... we tremble for all we have soiled.
Red Shuttleworth
Maybe that trembling is a final obstinate evidence of respect for life...
Nice. It’s like seeing the moon through those branches and clouds.
The sound of certain people’s voices in certain moments will stay with me for decades: timbre, pitch, modulations . . . I can recall them forty or more years later. Many were close to me, some weren’t. I marvel at this, take it as a kind of connection that remains open for reasons unknown; or a closeness I didn’t sense or appreciate earlier in this same life.
Yes, the one clear benefit in ageing I can identify (in with all the massive drawbacks, that is), is the intermittent clarity, all personal affect withdrawn, when a person, thing or place which we'd thought familiar suddenly becomes as if for the first time apparent, all predispositions withdrawn... for the moment.
And then, the next moment, back to the fret-board.
So I am using a friends computer that translates everything into spanish and thinking
Wow I didnt realize everyone in this blog is bilingual!!!
Harris
Lovely photos, poem.
When I saw that Red was writing in Spanish too I had a "Doh" moment. LOL
We don't have harvest or harvest moons here down by the equator.
H.
Tom,
Yes, those suddenly striking voices, "hung in the air . . . the years/ if only, for an instant... " Years ago I was hiking up the McGee Creek Trail in the eastern Sierra, three people coming down the other way, when I said "hello" the first guy suddenly turned back around and called out "Steve Ratcliffe!" -- having recognized my voice after not hearing it for years and years. . .
Light relief indeed. And much needed.
Thanks Tom.
Light. Looking back, it seems one could never get enough of it, forever.
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