Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
4,100 views 8 Nur - 12 June Congratulate me that I reached page 1,000 in my Journal today! I started it when I realized I needed to say things to a friend that he didn't necessarily need nor want to hear. So I started to write in an 8 1/2 x 11 notebook and then decided to use a new one every season. It has helped me tremendously both in working on some personal issues, getting into the bad habit of writing every day and as gist for poems. Needless to say, it is more personal than this blog. And more boring!!! This blog is now #57 on the list of most viewed. My goal? Top 50 will do for now! Weather where I am: 70º Weather in Prague, Nebraska: 70º Weather in Prague, Czech Republic: 75º and happy Czech Republic beat the USA 3-0 in the World Cup. 'Nuff said. Australia mangled Japan in a 3-1 surprize victory, so our Aussie friends in Blogville are happy. IMAGES and MUSINGS At the church: Red daylilies; russian sage; white rose-of-sharon; grass tall as me; Pink fairy roses; cracked dry earth; a car booming past the old stone blocks; A coal chute (Majestic) at the 9th Street Baptist Church (built when?); stained glass, a square tower, no cornerstone. (services, no mass?) At the bank: A dead rabbit gutted on Tennessee warns me not to tread here where the day is spent on counting money. The grass so high and thick is hard to walk through, a deep green carpet that speaks of wealth, awards no welcome. Those who dare to leave their muddy footprints on this sacred turf need not bank here. The sign at the Douglas County Bank glares: 7:10, 79º. Sketched on Saturday, while visiting a friend: On Cardinal Street By this rock, surrounded by the blooming plaintain that bees have abandoned before the rain, the ground gasps wide cracks. I watch the fading green greet sky, the lilies beg in thirst. Each day they send another trumpet out to plead their plight. In the calm of evening, before the coming storm, the grasses nod their heads. Among the rocks what clings to life turns yellow. But this is Kansas, staring at a drought. In Oklahoma, the scorpions would hide here. [163.186] I have started to post entries at my restricted site for ranting again:
Feel free to email me to comment on what you find there. Please do not comment here in this blog, L'aura del Campo as it is only 18+ and public. I have Hoarfrosts restricted for personal reasons. What is written there should stay there. |