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!

How Long?

“How long must I put up with you?” 

Jesus’ actions answered his own question . . . 

Until the rooster sings 

and the sweat stings 

and the mallet rings 

And a hillside of demons smirk at a dying God. 

How long? 

Long enough for every sin 

to soak my sinless soul 

That heaven will turn in horror 

Until my swollen lips pronounce the final transaction: 

“It is finished.” 

How long? 

Until it kills me. 

Max Lucado 

from A Love Worth Giving

Silence

Abraham Lincoln said "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt." (from Brainy Quotes)

Social silence is an interesting thing. Some people run their mouths until they verge on verbal diarrhea. Others sit in total silence, feeling left out and disjointed. I think that if you can comfortably sit in silence with someone, you have found a wonderful friend. There's a paradox to that, though: Often your friends that are most relaxed with silence are the ones you talk to the most.

If Things Started Expanding...

Imagine if random objects suddenly swelled to ten times their original size. Setting the table would be a daunting task, and you might fly away if you tried to take a piece of paper outside on a windy day. And this is what a calculator would look like...

Weird, eh? This is actually the final art project for my high school course. I used a combination of cardboard, paper, paper mache, and spray paint to construct this. If I had the chance to do it again, I wouldn't take it. 

Big Deal, Little Deal

As big of a deal as you make it. That's my new philosophy. 

I've found out time and again that most situations or tasks usually become as big of a deal as you make them. Most of you can probably think of times when you made a big deal out of some insignificant thing you dreaded, and later realized that your worrying had been a waste of energy. If you hadn't made it into a big deal, it would have been simple.

What would happen if you flipped the idea around? Take a little thing that you enjoy and make it into a big deal. Not to the point where you would fret over it, but rather that you could stretch it out as long as you could to squeeze every drop of enjoyment out of it.

As Pleasant as a Root Canal

Irony is such an interesting thing! You can find it everywhere you look; you can even create it. In the most basic sense, irony occurs when one thing is said, but the opposite is meant. (such as the title to this post)  The following are examples of situational irony, which "describes a discrepancy between the expected result and actual results when enlivened by perverse appropriateness." From Wikipedia's article on irony.

"When John Hinckley attempted to assassinate Ronald Reagan, all of his shots initially missed the President; however, a bullet ricocheted off the bullet-proof Presidential limousine and struck Reagan in the chest. Thus, a vehicle made to protect the President from gunfire was partially responsible for his being shot.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a story whose plot revolves around irony. Dorothy travels to a wizard and fulfills his challenging demands to go home, before discovering she had the ability to go back home all the time. The Scarecrow longs for intelligence, only to discover he is already a genius, and the Tin Woodsman longs to be capable of love, only to discover he already has a heart. The Lion, who at first appears to be a whimpering coward, turns out to be bold and fearless. The people in Emerald City believed the Wizard to be a powerful deity, only to discover that he is a bumbling, eccentric old man."

And here is an image depicting irony, which also happens to be a pet peeve of mine.

If I could cook up my own life, I'd definitely add the spice of irony.

Fin De Siecle

Here's a poem that makes me laugh...

Fin De Siecle

( The End of the Cycle)

This life’s a hollow bubble,

Don’t you know?

Just a painted piece of twouble,

Don’t you know?

We come to earth to cwy,

We gwow oldeh and we sigh,

Oldeh still and then we die,

Don’t you know?

It is all a howwid mix,

Don’t you know?

Business, love, and politics,

Don’t you know?

Clubs and pawties, cliques and sets,

Fashions, follies, sins, wegwets,

Stwuggle, stwife and cigawettes.

Don’t you know?

And we wowwy through each day,

Don’t you know?

In a sort of, kind of way,

Don’t you know?

We are hungry, we are fed,

Some few things are done and said,

We are tired, we go to bed,

Don’t you know?

Business, oh, that’s beastly twade,

Don’t you know?

Something’s lost or something’s made,

Don’t you know?

And you wowwy, and you mope,

And you hang your highest hope

On the price, pe’haps of soap,

Don’t you know?

Politics! oh, just a lawk,

Don’t you know?

Just a nightmeah in the dawk,

Don’t you know?

You pe’spiah all day and night,

And afteh all the fight,

Why, pe’haps the w’ong man’s wight,

Don’t you know?

Society? Is dwess,

Don’t you know?

And a sou’ce of much distwess,

Don’t you know?

To determine what to weah,

When to go and likewise wheah

And how to pawt youah haih,

Don’t you know?

Love? Oh, yes. You meet some gi’l,

Don’t you know?

An’ you get in such a whi’l,

Don’t you know?

Then you kneel down on the floah

And imploah and adoah -

And it’s all a beastly boah,

Don’t you know?

So theah’s weally nothing in it,

Don’t you know?

And we live just for the minute,

Don’t you know?

For when you’ve seen and felt,

Dwank and eaten, heahd and smelt,

Why all the cawds are dealt,

Don’t you know?

You’ve one consciousness, that’s all,

Don’t you know?

And one stomach, and it’s small,

Don’t you know?

You can only weah one tie,

One eyeglass in youah eye,

And one coffin when you die.

Don’t you know?

Edmund Vance Cooke