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Posts containing the following tags:
life, death
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Teaching matters.We owe it to our children to get it right.
What do you care to know about the world?
There's a place for what used to be called boredom, for empty spaces to slide into your mind. It's not particularly unpleasant, but it lacks the dopamine we've programmed our children, ourselves, to crave.
If you sit still long enough ...
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And she forgot the stars, the moon and sun,
And she forgot the blue above the trees,
And she forgot the dells where waters run,
And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze;
She had no knowledge when the day was done,
And the new morn she saw not: but in peace
Hung over her sweet Basil evermore,
And moisten'd it with tears unto the core.
John Keats, ...
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I lost a friend this week, a strong woman who once jumped out of airplanes to fight forest fires, and lost her fight with some vagrant cells after a long, long battle.
None of us are permanent, of course, a flippant statement when one is healthy.
She's dead, I'm still here.
That won't always be true for me. Nor you. Nor our students.
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I ...
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An Cailleach Bhearra wandered around back in the 10th century in western Ireland,
eating ''seaweed, salmon, and wild garlic'' (my kind of woman), looking for firewood.
If the day was bright and sunny, beware--she had gathered plenty of wood and was set for many cold days ahead.
If the day was gray, she didn't bother, and she will make the days ...
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A drum found on the edge of the Delaware Bay. Grace
God, I know nothing, my sense is all nonsense,
And fear of You begins intelligence;
Does it end there? For sexual love, for food,
For books and birch trees I claim gratitude,
But when I grieve over the unripe dead
My grief festers, corrupted into dread,
And I know nothing. Give us our daily ...
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''In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.''Genesis 3:19 KJV
I teach high school biology. I happen to love teaching, and I enjoy learning how things work, but many of my lambs come to high school with some deep ...
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'Turn away no more;
Why wilt thou turn away
The starry floor,
The watery shore,
Is given thee till the break of day.' William Blake
Today is the last day of the darkest two weeks of the year, the shadows stretched long on the beach like languid lovers unaware of the long darkness just hours away.
Leslie and I, shadows of each other, walked ...
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Last week of the sinking sun.
The Earth hurtles closer to the sun, but my little piece of paradise edges more and more oblique to the sun, our source of light, of life. We're in the dark season.
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The bell still rings at 7:45 in the morning. It's not a bell anymore, but we still call it that. I blew a conch shell as the bell sounded, an ...
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Raked some leaves, then some clams, then some charcoals to cook the clams. New moon tide in late November on a spectacular day makes for good living, at least for me. Can't say the same for the clams now in my belly.
In between the leaves and the clams, Leslie and I kayaked up a local creek. The cormorants are still here, soon to be replaced by ...
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I liked this 3 years ago.
I still like it....Happy Thanksgiving!
This week's The New Yorker magazine cover highlights a turkey sitting on a ledge with a few pigeons. It's the classic turkey any schoolkid would draw--blue head, red wattle, and a lovely banded tail.
Most turkeys destined for tables tomorrow, broad-breasted whites, never looked ...
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