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Posted by wmmbb in DOG BLOG -.

The rain has continued. It is not really a problem. Dexter and Hannah could cope with getting bit wet. Fortunately, we did not get the hail that was forecast elsewhere.

I am sure that Dexter and Hannah have become used of been photographed. As dogs they seem to adapt to human ways. If so they recognize the species difference. What is captured by the photos is often luck. Sometimes I notice things that otherwise would have escaped my attention.

There are times when things happen for which I am not ready. Dexter and Hannah were sniffing. Then I saw what I thought was a red-bellied snake. It looked to me red and blue. I cannot say for sure that it was not a lizard. Luckily there were no consequences.

Then there was the time this week, when with a sudden impulse from the leads, I lost my footing. In my mind it must have been a spectacular move, and I recovered my balance. In that instance the time of incident was recorded with imagery.

I attempted to select the more interesting photos:

Rumi suggests consciousness, purpose and meaning evolves:

By contrast, for some, “war is the source that gives meaning”. The poem is “An Irishman Foresees His Death” by WB Yeats. He has the last word here:

(Acknowledgement to Dr Michael Nagler of the Metta Center for the Rumi and Yeats poems)



1. wmmbb - March 8, 2014

That should be “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death”. WB Yeats said he struggled with the writing of this poem. He said a poem should read as a poem. I need to write it down to get a sense of the craft, to recognize, for instance, the four quatrains within the sixteen line poem of two sentences.

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above,
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;

My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen, Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.

Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;

I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come, seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath, the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

What is he talking about?

2. wmmbb - March 8, 2014

Here is what I have written on the photo of the “Old Mine Portal::

The daily toil is now memory – mostly among the dead. The coal drawn (from) the earth was converted to energy to meet immediate needs. Nature reclaims the (surrounding) space. Such is the purpose of the humans.

It would have been more readable if I had deleted more photos. I have to say after considering Rumi and WB Yeats, I have more sympathy for Hegel.

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