Michael's Fáilte

Welcome to these writing warmups, blatherings, rantings, meditations, perorations, salutations, latest and those on time, those narrative, declarative, interrogative, gollywogative and other outdated, belated, simulated musings, perusings, shavings and other close calls, with no disrespect intended, that's why no real names included whenever impossible to avoid the guilt that came in the crib for uttering something that would hurt or injure those in authority, being of everlasting servitude to all and sundry, having chosen the road not taken and the frost on the pumpkin long before the kettle turned black or the cat found its own tail fascinating,
Your humble servant, etc.

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea
Lava Meets Ocean. Lynx, Starboard Side. Day 2.Early Morning, July 8 2006, Looking for Flashes off Chain of Craters, Big Island

Friday, July 16, 2010

Certain landscapes

I don't know what it is about certain landscapes that pulls me in——I mean that sort of portrait without people, with space and time intersected in such a way that leaves one hesitating: will the darkness overtake, overcome the light, after all? That is a question that could haunt us if we allowed. It is very dark outside our ken, what we think we know, what our senses are given to understand. "The Darkness Around Us Is Deep," as William Stafford says. So it is these still places, where the clouds lock into a freeze-frame of indecision, whether to turn horsetail and lift us into light or plunge us into cumulo-darkness for the rest of eternity. It is the open space, the open question.
Posted by at

1 comment:

  1. The Literary MidwifeJuly 16, 2010 at 10:51 AM

    My meandering curiosity wonders why we consider darkness a bleak and scary place. Is it cultural? religious? blindophobic?

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)