tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post7597629725182208017..comments2024-03-21T05:30:03.220-04:00Comments on Science teacher: The Orion Nebula shines on an old neighborhooddoylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12901661320505882735noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-77375272219047312852009-02-16T16:06:00.000-05:002009-02-16T16:06:00.000-05:00@John,Exactly--and we're losing it fast.@Kate,Than...@John,<BR/><BR/>Exactly--and we're losing it fast.<BR/><BR/>@Kate,<BR/><BR/>Thanks--that's wonderful! I can <I>feel</I> the receding light of a warm dusk evening--I will need this again before the winter's over.<BR/><BR/>@captainawesome,<BR/><BR/>People are afraid of life, I suspect because we are so culturally afraid of death.<BR/><BR/>One of the big secrets is that you don't need to be fantastically wealthy to be fantastically happy. (You need enough money to keep your horses fed, true, but much of this country has that and more and does not know it.)<BR/><BR/>If we're not here to share stories and chase lightning bugs, then what else can we do?doylehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12901661320505882735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-83093211709257540172009-02-12T22:04:00.000-05:002009-02-12T22:04:00.000-05:00Beautiful image. This sounds like our town. We mov...Beautiful image. This sounds like our town. We moved here a year and a half ago, to the shagrin of most of out family and friends. Too dangerous and trashy they said. Not even two years later four other families have joined us here. There is nothing like a summer night of rockingchairs, stoops, and kids running together down the sidewalk.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-41544013035676371002009-02-12T10:47:00.000-05:002009-02-12T10:47:00.000-05:00For us, it's the back porch that opens up into the...For us, it's the back porch that opens up into the back yards of our neighbors, where we all gather and wave at each other and foment the impromptu pot-luck/beer/glass of wine and conversation. This poem arrived in my in-box just the other day - <BR/><I>On the Back Porch</I><BR/>by Dorianne Laux from <B>Awake</B><BR/><BR/>The cat calls for her dinner.<BR/>On the porch I bend and pour<BR/>brown soy stars into her bowl,<BR/>stroke her dark fur.<BR/>It's not quite night.<BR/>Pinpricks of light in the eastern sky.<BR/>Above my neighbor's roof, a transparent <BR/>moon, a pink rag of cloud.<BR/>Inside my house are those who love me.<BR/>My daughter dusts biscuit dough.<BR/>And there's a man who will lift my hair<BR/>in his hands, brush it<BR/>until it throws sparks.<BR/>Everything is just as I've left it.<BR/>Dinner simmers on the stove.<BR/>Glass bowls wait to be filled<BR/>with gold broth. Sprigs of parsley<BR/>on the cutting board.<BR/>I want to smell this rich soup, the air<BR/>around me going dark, as stars press<BR/>their simple shapes into the sky.<BR/>I want to stay on the back porch<BR/>while the world tilts<BR/>toward sleep, until what I love<BR/>misses me, and calls me in.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-14934020530665466532009-02-11T22:05:00.000-05:002009-02-11T22:05:00.000-05:00I'm with you. The front porch is the last of the ...I'm with you. The front porch is the last of the great democratic civic institutions.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10956056168256756705noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4956989639073843954.post-85693556959357638112009-02-11T21:22:00.000-05:002009-02-11T21:22:00.000-05:00This might be my favorite post. If the telescope...This might be my favorite post. If the telescope captures the light from centuries ago, this captures our home now.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com