mornings … cannot see too many sunrises – dawn … creeps in stealthily
I had myself called with the four o’clock watch, mornings, for one cannot see too many summer sunrises on the Mississippi.
They are enchanting.
First, there is the eloquence of silence; for a deep hush broods everywhere.
Next, there is the haunting sense of loneliness, isolation, remoteness from the worry and bustle of the world.
The dawn creeps in stealthily; the solid walls of black forest soften to gray, and vast stretches of the river open up and reveal themselves; the water is glass-smooth, gives off spectral little wreaths of white mist, there is not the faintest breath of wind, nor stir of leaf; the tranquility is profound and infinitely satisfying.
Then a bird pipes up, another follows, and soon the pipings develop into a jubilant riot of music.
You see none of the birds; you simply move through an atmosphere of song which seems to sing itself.
When the light has become a little stronger, you have one of the fairest and softest pictures imaginable.
Driving over the Cross Island Parkway bridge this morning I looked to the east and got a glimpse of the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean.
I says to myself, get you phone out and take a picture.
Then I says to myself, oh not again, how many of these sunrise pictures do you need?
I remembered Mr. Twain writing one cannot see too many summer sunrises and I grabbed up my phone, lowered my window and snapped away.
Looking at the picture, I have to agree with Mr. Twain.
The eloquence of silence.
Even while listening to a book on tape.
The haunting sense of loneliness, isolation, remoteness from the worry and bustle of the world if even for just that moment as I drive, surrounded by other drivers.
Feeling more than seeing that the dawn creeps in stealthily.
If nothing else, I feel the fresh start of the day.
And I am reminded that to not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
So what to do with all the worries that I carry into the start of the day?
Seeing the sunrise how cannot I not be reminded, once again, to seek first his kingdom.
And embrace the haunting sense of loneliness, isolation, remoteness from the worry and bustle of the world.
Examining how NFL teams draft incoming College football players, Mr. Lewis writes:
“Is the coach in this situation 20 percent crazy? Is the offensive coordinator 40 percent crazy? Is the linebackers coach 60 percent crazy? Because they might be. They’re thinking in a way humans would think.”
The former NFL executive suggested the inherent irrationality drove him “a little crazy.”
“You have an environment in sports where there are very high-dollar decisions being made, and it’s simultaneously a very emotional playground in which to make those decisions,” Bornn said. “Those two things combined lead to bizarre behavior … which is sticky. Things happen where you might look back and say, ‘Why in the world do they do that?’”
I can understand that when multi multi million dollar deals and the multi multi million dollar impact that these decisions someone makes about how well some 22 year kid might play in the NFL NEXT YEAR can lead to bizarre behavior.
But forget football and millions of dollars, I can see how the decision to order breakfast at our local diner can lead to bizarre behavior.
For me, the price of breakfast is a high dollar decision.
For me, what I have for breakfast is an emotional decision.
As Garrison Keillor writes in his book, WLT: A Radio Romance, “It’s more important to make a very good cup of coffee in the morning and a very good piece-of toast than it is to worry about Josef Stalin, because I can do something about breakfast and I can’t do anything about Stalin, and I’m sure he’s having a wonderful breakfast.”
That I CAN do something about breakfast can make it into a very emotional decision!
And BOY HOWDY, does it lead to some bizarre behavior.
Thinking the way humans think, we might all be crazy.
So …..
I will have two eggs, sunny side up, hash browns, bacon AND sausage with pancakes on the side and whole wheat toast to dip in the yolks.
And one hour later, I will ask myself, Why in the world do I do that?
what will the day bring when the day starts out playing the Liberty Bell march
Big Bill wrote:
To sleep, perchance to dream — ay, there’s the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
I put it to you:
to wake, to face the day, ay there’s the rub: For in the day of waking, what reality will come.
I got up today and followed my morning regime of shower, coffee, newspapers, clothes, medicines and nostrums and sat down if front of my computer to start work.
I turned on my computers, logged in and clicked the link to the online radio station from London that plays behind my day and heard the single stoke of a bell.
Then band music began to play in the unmistakable style of a John Phillip Sousa march.
The bell sound identified the piece of music as Sousa’s Liberty Bell March, which according to Wikipedia, was written by Lieutenant Commander Sousa as part of unfinished operetta but became famous as march.
Also from Wikipedia, The ship’s bell from the SS John Philip Sousa, a World War II Liberty ship, is housed at the Marine Barracks and is used by The President’s Own in select performances of the march.
The march follows the standard form of AABBCDCDC. The trio (sections C and D) uses tubular bells to symbolize the Liberty Bell ringing. The bells usually begin during the first breakstrain (section D), but some bands use them at the first trio (section C).
This is scored for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, cymbals, bass drum, snare drum, and strings.
For me?
For me and a lot of people my age, the Liberty Bell march meant one thing.
It meant Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
Again from Wikipedia,
The march is best known today for being associated with the British TV comedy program Monty Python’s Flying Circus (1969–1974), which used as its opening theme the version performed by the Band of the Grenadier Guards and published in 1938. Cast member Terry Gilliam, the only American member of the troupe, argued for the use of “The Liberty Bell” because it had fallen into the public domain by that time and could thus be used without the need to pay royalties. He has said the piece was chosen because the troupe thought it would not be associated with the program’s content, and that the first bell strike and subsequent melody would give the impression of getting “straight down to business.”
The Monty Python mode of presenting the tune was with a single strike of the bell, lifted from the third section and increased in volume, followed by a strain of each of the first two sections, followed by the famous stomping foot animation and a noticeably flatulent “splat” sound reminiscent of a whoopee cushion.
John Cleese once described the show and comedy at large as a ‘accepting a ridiculous situation and then proceed through the situation logically.’
For example Mr. Cleese pointed out, what if sidewalks were perpendicular?
Mr. Cleese answered that by saying something like, ‘If sidewalks were perpendicular, people using the sidewalks would have to be outfitted like alpine mountain climbers.”
Which led to sketch of the Python Troup making there way up a sidewalk with ropes, pitons and thick winter clothes with a background narration of a tense BBC presenter pointing out all the danger of climbing a sidewalk and the awful scene of one the climbers losing their grip and rolling down the sidewalk, plunging to sure death.
Of course, the entire time, real people are walking up and down the sidewalk, past all the climbers.
Accept a ridiculous situation and then proceed through the situation logically.
Its February and gray and rainy and cold here and everywhere.
Through out literature people ask about things God created and ask why.
Why Mosquitos?
Why Platypuses?
I ask, Why February?
The country faces a Presidential election where by most accounts, most folks don’t like or want either candidate and there is a near consensus of those who haven’t lost their minds that these candidates cannot be the best people for the job in a country of 330 million.
Wars are becoming common once again through the world.
Nature again seems to be trying to wash us all away, but only because we, the world as whole, pissed off nature and messed up the climate.
And my day started with the sound of single stoke of a bell.
Accept a ridiculous situation and then proceed through the situation logically.
As Bette Davis said, fasten those seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy flight.
For in the day of waking, what reality will come.
At least the song got me to look towards the coming day with a laugh.
comes quiet stirring a vast pulsating music the Sun delivered
There is a neighborhood where we like to walk near our house where this group of about a half dozen families like to decorate their homes for Halloween and Christmas.
Most years it seems to be a benign competition.
This year, somehow, someway, the families involved got together and coordinated their efforts.
Each house went all out as usual.
Decorating starts before Thanksgiving and by the long weekend giving thanks, that end of the street glows.
I cannot imagine how many hours and dollars are invested in these displays.
The amount of time alone needed to put it all together would stop me from even thinking of entering the competition of individual home decoration.
Then, to show their bond of community they turned the sidewalk that spans this group of houses into one long tunnel of light.
Every 10 feet or so of sidewalk has a 7 foot high hoop of PCP pipe that is wrapped in lights.
Each hoop is connected with extension cords to the next hoop.
You can walk the length the block under an arbor of Christmas lights.
Don’t get me wrong.
It is impossible to walk down this sidewalk, under the lights, and not feel better, a little happier for doing it, for being there.
You can’t look at this lights from across the pond, with the water reflecting the lights, and not feel better, a little happier for doing it, for being there.
I cannot imagine the time and human effort that its required to put on such a show.
As I drove to work this morning the sun was about to come up out of the Atlantic Ocean.
Far into the vast the mist grows dim, A deep and holy silence broods around, Fire burns beyond the vaporous rim, And crystal-like the dew bestrews the ground.
The last laggard star has fled the glowing sky, Comes a quiet stirring and a gentle light, A vast pulsating music, throbbing harmony, Beyond the Sun delivered from the gloom of night!*
No human effort required.
No extension cords.
No PCP pipe.
The earth revolves daily and somewhere in the world, the Sun is coming up.
You feel better, a little happier for seeing it, for being there.
