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November: Interfaces

11/14/2018

3 Comments

 
Picture
The Intricate Art of Weaving
 
Interfaces, relationships. Seeking common bonds, weaving cords across the division. My torn intercostal muscles have to knit, with just enough exercise, not too much, steady, listening for hurt, and heeding, easing off for a while, then resuming.  
So too, with relationships. Exercise, keep trying, weave common bonds, don’t overdo it but don’t coddle either. Listen, find just the right push. Then repeat it all again on the morrow. Until the knit is complete.
And too, with humans and nature. Many have learned not to trample, to respect, to form bonds with the natural world, but we are ever learning how we unknowingly do damage. We keep trying to build a web from us to them,  but  must constantly repair the breaks in that web.
And there will always remain a small sensitive place, where the heal will never be complete. 
Picture
Cannon Beach, Oregon
Cannon Beach
 
After a night in luxurious bed,
All amenities provided,
Well-partied wedding guests
Sleep it off late. 
 
I descend steep wooden stairs
To the sandy beach.
People, coffee cup in hand,
Walk their dogs. 

I head for the ocean,
Focus on the waves' steady roar.
Cold water laps at my bare feet,
I can see  to the horizon.
 
Focus on the seaweed,
Washed ashore, the crab shells,
A half sand dollar, jellies, 
Waiting for the next big wave.
 
The dogs are well-behaved,
The people quiet and unobtrusive,
But I can’t help noticing how
The birds fly when they come.
 
How the people are focused
On themselves, their companions,
Better, I think, than on their phones,
But do they notice? do they see?
 
And I walk farther, to the end,
To an isolated sandbar, covered
With gulls secure from dogs,
Where the people are scarce.
 
One young gull is on my side,
Apathetic, it lets me walk
Right by, take a photo or two,
But flies when a dog arrives.
 
And the gulls on the other side
All scatter when a dog and its people
Cross the shallow water
To the previously isolated sandbar. 
 
I sit at the edge of the stream
That runs into the ocean,
Silently commune with a heron,
That sedately watches, wades.
 
And I wonder, to whom
Does the beach belong?
To the animals or the people,
To all-- or to none?
 
I walk back along the beach,
Leaving footprints in the sand,
Which, when the tide is high, 
The ocean’s waves will erase.
 
 

Picture
Heron at Cannon Beach
​Larkspur Landing
 
Leave  the trendy doughnut shop,
The people, friendly.  somehow grate on me,
The road, where cars sedately snake along,
Stuck in their metal-asphalt world.
 
Climb down the dirt path to the lagoon,
Feel my senses change. Near silence, broken
By bird song. Whiff of salty sea air. Soft, cool
Ocean breeze, beckoning. 
 
Look up to the East to see fancy 
Houses perched on the hill,
To the West, six lanes of black asphalt,
Cut into the steep wooded hillside.
 
Trail ends, can’t walk along the water,
Ferry landing on one end,
Prison fence on the other.
So I return to my car.
 
But stop to talk to a gruff man, 
Scottish accent, taken aback but friendly,
He tells me all about the trails he hikes. 
I see Mt. Tam serenely watching us. 

​-MW
 

Picture
Solitary gull at Cannon Beach
Symbiosis

Symbiotic ties are ubiquities
And can be good or bad,
Of advantage to one but not the other,
And best when needs and purposes
Of both parts are fairly served.
The unbalanced former is all too common,
The balanced latter, sporadic occurrence.


 Let Us Be Humans!

Different though we are,
Let us appreciate one another,
Let us respect one another,
Let us help one another,
Let us be humans!

Many though we are
There's room for all of us,
A place for each of us,
Food for all of us,
Let us be humans!

Anguished though we are,
Suspicion, hatred and strife,
With which the world is rife,
Only diminish life.
Let us be humans!

-JM


Pithy Thoughts

Every hurt leaves a scar, however invisible.  -MW

Our world's civilizations will in due time perish,
Scarred Nature will then heal and flourish. -JM

​
Picture
I am the uniter, sitting on the sofa between my two masters, reminding them that we are an inseparable family. 
Picture
Bin die See, du das Land,
Deutlich unterschiedlich.
Aber an dem heissen Strand,
Land und Wasser treffen sich. 

I'm the sea, you the land,
Different as can be.
But on the hot, summer strand,
Land and water meet.

And then there is a space
Where the sand is wet,
Footsteps remain in place
Until they are wave-swept. 

​-MW


Picture
The rower is close to the water. She greets the dolphins at their level, plays hide and seek with the young seal, rides each wave, goes with the wind and the currents, and leaves little wake. 
The kayaker is even closer and the tule boat the closest. For the tule boat is built with natural materials from the Bay itself, will compost into the shore when it gets old, the paddler gets his food from the Bay, unpackaged, unprocessed. The tule boat glides silently among the rushes, one big bird among many. Just one strand in Nature's web.
A fugue is the musical version of weaving. Several voices running alongside each other, meeting in harmony, then veering off again, and ending in a final harmonic whole. The Toccata and Fugue by Johann Sebastian Bach is a master of this form. 

​Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor, Hannes Kästner organist, Thomaskirche, Leipzig, Germany. Posted on Youtube by MovieMongerH2 in 2010, in public domain. 
3 Comments
Marylou
11/13/2018 10:02:20 pm

Nice work. I like the Bach link.

Reply
Gail W. MacDonald
11/14/2018 09:33:51 am

Your opening "The art of weaving" is so thought-provoking. And it can all apply to human relationships as well as the portion that was about natural & humans. They do require constant mending, staying alert not to create holes, and yes, there is always some small painful spots that don't heal. You put it so well.

The descriptions of walking on the beaches is very vivid - I feel like I was walking beside you from the word pictures you put together and hung here for our contemplation and enjoyment.

I particularly liked JM's "Let Us Be Humans" - his writing is always packed with unique ways to view the world.

Smiles & strokes to dear Piccola - yes, she who lies like a little log of love between the two of you.

Reply
Patricia Moore
11/16/2018 02:31:59 pm

The Bach came through really well.
Fielen Dank!
Please correct my German.....

Reply



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Photos used under Creative Commons from Eric Kilby, tracie7779, USFWS Mountain Prairie, Denis Bourez, jinxmcc, Japanese beauty, voyager2014, Kirt Edblom, nevil zaveri (thank you for 15+M views:), kennethkonica, FaceMePLS, Marianne Serra, irio.jyske, 270862, NASA Hubble, steviep187, Keith Laverack, corsi photo, Howard J Duncan, Luna sin estrellas, Lynda W1, bvi4092, John Brighenti, Kecko, Cambridge Cat, Alexxx1979, ashwin kumar, vastateparksstaff, Marian Elizabeth May, sussexbirder, ell brown, David Meurin, Rod Raglin, Swallowtail Garden Seeds, A_Peach, timo_w2s, acryptozoo, NASA Hubble, lewinb