Whale Watching

It's not very often that you get to see whales this far inland, but my whale watching paid off yesterday. I saw one! It came floating over my head, singing it's distinctive song. It smelt a lot like jet kerosene... Um, this whale was a little different than you're thinking... it was flying. To be exact, it was an Airbus A380, the world's largest passenger whale plane.

In simple words, I went plane spotting yesterday and had a wonderfully introverted day. There were a couple of surprises, mostly good ones. The prime spotting location was unusable because the adjacent runway was shut down. So we found a less ideal location, and were treated to all takeoffs and landings (a great many) because of it! Another bonus was an Hainan Airlines A340-600, all the way from China. And, of course, Emirates' A380!

In The Shadows

I am sailing to the leeward, 

Where the current runs to seaward
Soft and slow,
Where the sleeping river grasses
Brush my paddle as it passes
To and fro.

On the shore the heat is shaking
All the golden sands awaking
In the cove;
And the quaint sandpiper, winging
O'er the shallows, ceases singing
When I move.

On the water's idle pillow
Sleeps the overhanging willow,
Green and cool;
Where the rushes lift their burnished
Oval heads from out the tarnished
Emerald pool.

Where the very silence slumbers,
Water lilies grow in numbers,
Pure and pale;
All the morning they have rested,
Amber crowned, and pearly crested,
Fair and frail.

Here, impossible romances,
Indefinable sweet fancies,
Cluster round;
But they do not mar the sweetness
Of this still September fleetness
With a sound.

I can scarce discern the meeting
Of the shore and stream retreating,
So remote;
For the laggard river, dozing,
Only wakes from its reposing
Where I float.

Where the river mists are rising,
All the foliage baptizing
With their spray;
There the sun gleams far and faintly,
With a shadow soft and saintly,
In its ray.

And the perfume of some burning
Far-off brushwood, ever turning
To exhale
All its smoky fragrance dying,
In the arms of evening lying,
Where I sail.

My canoe is growing lazy,
In the atmosphere so hazy,
While I dream;
Half in slumber I am guiding,
Eastward indistinctly gliding
Down the stream.

E. Pauline Johnson

This poem came to mind while canoeing yesterday, and sums up everything perfectly. Except for the part about September. Instead summer ending, it's just beginning! Isn't "Where the very silence slumbers" a beautiful line? I think so.

High Flight

This poem doesn't need an explanation.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee No 412 squadron, RCAF Killed 11 December 1941

A New Perspective of Our Planet

Have you ever wondered what Earth and the Moon look like from the Sun?

The largest bright ball is our planet, while the smaller one to the right is the Moon. They look pretty small, eh? Imagine trying to find this oasis from some far-flung star in the Milky Way! Virtually impossible!