Orion's Cosmic Cartwheel

For those keen to enjoy the heavens, these are the nights of Orion's brilliant, cosmic cartwheel arcing southeast to southwest across the sky - coming into view above the horizon especially around 7:00 to 8:00 p.m.

What Glory Was It That Suffered

What glory was it that suffered
a little child to bear such weight
when there was all the world for the part?

Ah, such glory was love, love divine,
discontent to lord in majesty above,
passionate to plod among us, as one of us,
so low and worn, so destitute we were.

And so was fleshed in humility, in sacrifice,
through and for love, a thing of little weight,
a child, yet of such glory, for all the world.

Photography and Self

In my best moments, in my photographs I do not want people to see me but to see what I see.

Old Waterford Road

My wife, Karen, and I found a break between rains this morning for a lovely drive out of Leesburg VA up Old Waterford Road (much of it gravel and narrow) to historic Waterford VA. The fall colors are at or near peak, inducing wonder at the glory curving along land and sky and foliage. Adding to all, the weather was strange and wild, with warm and gusty winds in front of an approaching cold front. Gusts strong enough to crack and blow a 25 to 30-foot tree down onto the the road at one point, some time a short while before our coming, and leaving little space to pass. I drove carefully far to the left on the road, crunching over the very top branches. The sight and experience so impressed me, I was lost in amazement. (It doesn't take much to do this to me.) Karen, more level-headed and civic-minded, despite her suffering with a cold, suggested it would be a good idea to move the tree from the road. Conceding the sense and sensibility of this, I parked as far to one side of the road as I could and slowly (barely) dragged the tree off the roadbed as far as I could, with Karen clearing broken branches and debris from the road. None the worse for wear (surprisingly), and a bit chuffed with civic pride, we drove on in the splendor of the morning, glad to have been of some slight service to a greater good.

Late the Blood-Red Rose

Here and now in mid October
has late the blood-red rose
opened to the dying sun,
which by the day is paling
toward that flat of wintered light,
yet does still bleed such beauty
through thorn through petal
for this our ruinous fall.

Like Water Striders

Like water striders, we skim along on the surface of glory we scarcely fathom.

Reading Wallace Stegner

To read Wallace Stegner is to become more human. His was a life that mattered, in word and deed.