9.14.2025 – have you turned from world ..

have you turned from world ..
or have you too gone crazy
for power, for things?

Adapted from the poem The Sun by Mary Oliver and the lines where she writes,

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

As published in New and Selected Poems: Volume One (Boston, Beacon Press, 2004).

Every once in awhile, Mother Nature stirs herself and shows why see is boss and cleans house leaving paths of destruction and folks, with head in hands, muttering … what happened?

On the other hand, twice a day the beaches where I live are power washed by twice daily 6 to 8 foot tides coming in at speed of 5 to 8 knots.

When I first moved to the coast, I understood the rise and fall of the tide to be horizontal.

If it was an 8 foot tide coming in and my beach chair was at the waters edge, I would have to move my chair back 8 feet to accommodate the rising tide.

I was quick to learn the rise isn’t horizontal but vertical.

I am six feet tall.

If I stand at the waters edge at low tide and the tide comes and I don’t move, by high tide, the water will 2 feet deep OVER MY HEAD.

The weight and power of water can be calculated.

Key local info for Hilton Head


Assumptions for the calculation

To do the calculation, I’ll assume:

  1. A coastal area being considered: say a rectangular section of coast that is 1 kilometer (1000 m) along the shoreline, and extends 500 meters inland (or seaward) to where water depth changes with the tide.
  2. Average water depth change over that area due to tide rise = tidal range = 2.4 meters (≈ 8 feet). Let’s pick 2.5 m to be simple.
  3. Gravitational acceleration, g = 9.81 m/s².
  4. Volume of water moved = area × average height change.

Calculating potential energy (PE) of the tidal rise

  1. Area = 1000 m × 500 m = 500,000 m²
  2. Height (rise) = 2.5 m
  3. Volume of water moved = area × height =
    500,000 m² × 2.5 m = 1,250,000 m³
  4. Mass of water = volume × density =
    1,250,000 m³ × 1025 kg/m³ ≈ 1.28125×10⁹ kg
  5. Potential energy of raising that mass by the average height (here 2.5 m) = mass × g × height
    PE = 1.28125×10⁹ kg × 9.81 m/s² × 2.5 m ≈ 3.14×10¹⁰ Joules (≈ 3.14×10^10 J)

TNT equivalent

  • One ton of TNT is defined as about 4.184 × 10⁹ Joules.
  • So, energy here (3.14 × 10¹⁰ J) divided by 4.184 × 10⁹ J/ton = ~ 7.5 tons of TNT equivalent.

Twice a day, Mother Nature wipes the beaches clean on Hilton Head island, dropping the equivalent of almost 8 tons of TNT per kilometer of beach to do the job.

And the beach at Hilton Head is 20 Kilimoters long from the Hilton Headland to South Point at Sea Pines.

That means 160 tons of TNT that would take 32 B17 World War 2 bombers every 12 hours.

The tides come in and go out.

Little stands in the way.

Sure, mankind could drop the bombs and clear the beach but when that’s over the beach is destroyed and there is no clear plan to restore the beach.

Things do seems to get messed up when mankind gets involved in any way.

When Mother Nature finishes up, the beach is renewed, restored and we start all over again.

And its been happening since the world’s weather and such stabilized itself after the Noah episode.

As Lincoln said of the Gettysburg Address … “The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here …”

Taken out of context to be sure but it captures what I am trying to express.

No permanence.

That tide is coming twice a day and nothing we can do to change, stop or impact it.

Yet we sit and watch the tide come in, with the sun and the blue sky and what we think is,

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

In many many many ways, in this day and age, I thank God for those feelings.

9.13.2025 – blame predecessor

blame predecessor
remake organization
get three envelopes

Based on the passage:

There has been a joke going around Labour MPs over the past week about three envelopes in Soviet Russia.

“Whenever you run into trouble, open them in order,” the instructions go.

Envelope one says: “Blame your predecessor.”

So he does – and it works.

The party officials are satisfied.

A year later, problems arise again. He opens envelope two. It says: “Restructure the organisation.”

He does a big reshuffle, changes some titles, and again buys himself some time.

Finally, another crisis comes.

He opens envelope three.

It says: “Prepare three envelopes.”

In the article, Can Keir survive? Inside the plot to bring down the prime minister, Pippa Crerar and Jessica Elgot.

9.12.2025 – little you know what

little you know what
it is this day, and after
this day, forever

Adapted from this passage in poem, Song of the Banner at Daybreak, as published in The complete writings of Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1902).

Little you know what it is this day, and after this day, forever,
It is to gain nothing, but risk and defy every thing,
Forward to stand in front of wars — and O, such wars! — what have you to do with them?
With passions of demons, slaughter, premature death?

9.11.2025 – sun and softness and …

sun and softness and …
beaten hardness of the earth
song of all sun-stars

Sunrise over Broad Creek on Hilton Head Island, September 11, 2025

Adapted from:

Sun Song

by Langston Hughes

Sun and softness,
Sun and the beaten hardness of the earth,
Sun and the song of all the sun-stars
Gathered together —
Dark ones of Africa,
I bring you my songs
To sing on the Georgia roads.

As published in The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes by Langston Hughes (New York, Knopf, 1994).

My grand daughter called last night.

She had an assignment in class to interview someone who was alive on 9/11/2001.

She had 11 questions to ask; where was I, what was I doing, how did it change my day?

I worked in the TV News business so I was watching TV at work when the 2nd plane hit.

I spent the rest of the day working to provide coverage online of what was going on in New York and in Washington and the rest of the world.

The last question my grand daughter asked was how has life changed since 9/11?

Less safe.

Less trusting.

Less.

Driving to work this morning, the interview and 9/11 was on my mind.

It struck me that as I drove over the bridges to an island on the coast, that 24 years ago at this very minute, the sun was rising out of the Atlantic Ocean.

People were getting up, starting their day, safe and sound.

The events of the day were already in motion.

Coming up over the curve of the earth like a wall of clouds on the horizon at sunrise.

In the next 24 hours the tide would come in and out two times.

And the sun would be coming up again.

The tide and the sun the same with the softness of the sun and the beaten hardness of the earth.

But the world would be different place.

It would be less.

Sunrise on 9/11
—in the manner of Langston Hughes

The sky broke open,
not with fire,
but with gold.
September’s hush,
a whisper low,
before the sirens told.

Steel and sun,
stood side by side,
in morning’s proud parade—
no hint yet of the ash to come,
no shadow on the blade.

O Harlem,
O Brooklyn streets,
O sleeping Bronx and Queens—
the city stirred with coffee dreams,
and soft machines.

Children laughed.
Mothers prayed.
Builders raised the day.
Dreamers climbed their towered hopes
the American way.

But somewhere deep,
in silence coiled,
a storm prepared to rise—
and blue turned black,
and joy cracked loud
against the stinging skies.

Yet still, that sun,
it rose again—
above the smoke and cries.
And still it burns
in every soul
that dares to hope and rise.

Let morning break—
not just with light,
but with a voice that sings:
“We lived. We wept.
We stood. We fight—
for better, braver things.”

9.10.2025 – pilgrims, pioneers

pilgrims, pioneers
humble immigrants ethic
of hard work, courage

Adapted from the passage:

… gold had been found.

That insignificant little flake the size of a woman’s fingernail had provoked this uncontrollable invasion, changing the face of California and the soul of the North American nation, as Jacob Todd, transformed into a journalist, would write a few years later.

“The United States was founded by pilgrims, pioneers, and humble immigrants with an ethic of hard work and courage in the face of adversity. Gold has brought out the worst of the American character: greed and violence.

From the book Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende (London, Flamingo and imprint of HarperCollins, 1999).