| Poem for Tuesday |
[Jan. 9th, 2007|12:02 am] |
Unknown Bird By W.S. Merwin
Out of the dry days through the dusty leaves far across the valley those few notes never heard here before
one fluted phrase floating over its wandering secret all at once wells up somewhere else
and is gone before it goes on fallen into its own echo leaving a hollow through the air that is dry as before
where is it from hardly anyone seems to have noticed it so far but who now would have been listening
it is not native here that may be the one thing we are sure of it came from somewhere else perhaps alone
so keeps on calling for no one who is here hoping to be heard by another of its own unlikely origin
trying once more the same few notes that began the song of an oriole last heard years ago in another existence there
it goes again tell no one it is here foreign as we are who are filling the days with a sound of our own
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Had a relatively quiet Monday catching up on stuff that didn't get done over the weekend, though I didn't catch up at all with my flist. Spent the morning writing articles on Alexander Siddig's new movie plans and the 24 supplement in EW, William Shatner's insistence that he'd rather work than the alternative and a UK report on NASA's inability to interest the 18-to-25-year-old crowd in manned spaceflight, which they believe is hurting both recruitment and the sort of public interest that keeps money coming in. Spent the afternoon watching bits of Rome while folding laundry, helping kids with homework, etc. because HBO has the entire first season On Demand this week and the new season starts Sunday and even though I convinced myself I didn't need to buy the expensive box set, I want good homemade DVDs so I was burning the first four and will get the rest tomorrow and Wednesday.
 One of the remaining millstones at Seneca Creek State Park. As you can see, flowers were beginning to come up in the middle of it over the past weekend...what, doesn't that always happen the first week in January?
 In the woods near one of the hiking trails are the ruins of Clopper Mill, from which the millstone came. There were several other mills on the properties that the park now encompasses, including the restored Black Rock Mill.
 The area near the visitor center also has this log cabin originally built in 1855, one of the few remaining structures from the original Germantown. The park has invasive ivy growing over a lot of trees in this area, like the one in this photo.</center>
After dinner we all watched West Side Story, which the kids had never seen, though they have seen parodies of it in various cartoons and the dancing in the Buffy musical. Younger son thought it was kind of a ripoff that they stole Romeo and Juliet -- I was trying to explain the idea of homage to him, but he was unimpressed until he found out the death count at the end was different, at which point I had to point out all the sources from which Shakespeare borrowed in turn. Now I'm afraid he thinks Rome is just a ripoff of Julius Caesar which in turn is a ripoff of Plutarch's Lives -- must do better explaining tomorrow. Older son was paying more attention to the construction of the dance/fight sequences and the singing. I was the only one who cried. *g* It feels very dated especially at the beginning -- the stylized dance moves give it a queer sensibility that totally undercuts the sense of menace I assume we're supposed to get from the gangs -- but once the story gets going (and Rita Moreno gets screen time), it's still fantastic.
And oh, yeah...happy SnapeDay! |
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