When Love
• 06/27/23 at 09:48AM •When love is the answer.
What is the question?
Feelings for another,
making you whole, once more.
When love is the answer.
What is the question?
Feelings for another,
making you whole, once more.
A fallen tree
across mountain stream,
a someday journey
for a childhood dream.
"This is the sight that greeted us as we arrived at Jokulsarlon at 11:30pm. Because of the almost polar location of Iceland, sunlight can illuminate the landscape for 22-23 hours a day, with the sun barely crossing the horizon". Matt Palmer on Unsplash
NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day:
You've surely seen it, but you might not have noticed it. During a cloudless twilight, just before sunrise or after sunset, part of the atmosphere above the horizon appears slightly dark and off-color. Called the Belt of Venus, this transitional band between the dark eclipsed sky and the bright day sky can be seen most prominently in the direction opposite the Sun. Straight above, blue sky is normal sunlight reflecting off the atmosphere, while near the horizon the clear sky can appear more orange or red. In the Belt of Venus, the atmosphere reflects more light from the setting (or rising) Sun and so appears more red. Featured here, the Belt of Venus was photographed over several Himalayan mountains including, second from the right, Mount Everest, the tallest mountain on Earth. Although usually not mentioned, the belt is frequently caught by accident in other photographs.
Photo by Soumyadeep Mukherjee
Stendhal, (1783 – 1842), Marie-Henri Beyle known by his nom de plume Stendhal, was a 19th-century French writer. He is highly regarded for the acute analysis of his characters' psychology and considered one of the early and foremost practitioners of realism. Among his novels novels are Le Rouge et le Noir (The Red and the Black, 1830) and La Chartreuse de Parme (The Charterhouse of Parma, 1839) A self-proclaimed egotist, he coined the same characteristic in his characters' "Beylism".
Long lay the moss,
upon the old tree,
much like a life,
full of misery.
It's hard to remove,
but we must try,
to improve our lot,
when cows fly.
A silly word,
perhaps, one or two,
but who cares anymore,
it's probably not you.
Heavy the heart,
on this sunny day,
my loved one with me,
but her memories, gone away.
Flames erupting, from below.
Smoke billowing chokes the air.
I look around, the barn is burning.
There is fire everywhere.
Volunteer firefighter was I.
A barn, with horses in stalls,
was afire, smoke everyplace.
Moving horses outside, as ember falls.
Fire engine, pump truck, working hard,
pumping water on the flames.
Wooden barn, burning bright.
Hours later, wooden beams and ash remains.
Blazing lights
attacked my eyes.
A cosmic disturbance,
from out the skies.
Colors of red and green,
flashing lights,
as thunder clashed,
late Spring aerial fights.
"I’ve always maintained, rightly or wrongly, that if necessity is the mother of invention, boredom is the midwife of art. Most of my artist pals would probably disagree, but I can only speak for myself. If I were busy with a job or a family or any of a countless other enterprises, I doubt I’d stay up late to find the time to make art". Read more