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This week I start with a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke which struck me again this morning to stop trying to adjust the "Law of Gravity" to fit my conceptions of how things ought to be.
- Gravity –
How surely gravity's law,
strong as an ocean's
current,
takes hold of even the
smallest thing
and pulls it toward the
heart of the world.
Each thing –
each stone, blossom, child
–
is held in place.
Only we, in our arrogance,
push out beyond what we
each belong to
for some empty freedom.
If we surrendered
to earth's intelligence
we could rise up rooted,
like trees.
Instead we entangle
ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and
confused.
So, like children, we
begin again
to learn from the things,
because they are in God's
heart;
they have never left God.
This is what the things
can teach us,
to fall,
patiently to trust our
heaviness.
Even the birds have to do
this
before they can fly.
Rainer Maria Rilke
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Since it was the 200th anniversary of Sangerville Maine, which Lincoln appears to be a part of, we followed a set of directions given to see what was left of the original mill a few miles away down a dirt road. The first three images are of Bob's Store, and the fourth is of the mill.
How to buy a cow?
How to make a living picking up after cows.
The remnants of a two hundred year old mill.
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One day last weekI got a call from a friend asking me to come over and take a photo of the largest iris that he had ever seen. Dick's wife, Christine, did not plant it and it seems to be God telling them that the power to suprise is a constant attribute of the Creator of beauty. The 2nd. image is of a Lupine in the same garden, a flower I don't believe I saw before moving to Maine. They are everywhere and sometimes huge fields are filled with this flower which has many varieties of color.
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On a walk around Jordon Pond in Acadia last week during a beautiful Spring day I took the following images. It is a favorite walk of some three miles that we have done often, always with grattitude for such beauty to be available to us.
A working beaver lodge at the far end of Jordon Pond,
which is in my opinion a lake.
New Spring growth on a pine tree.
It is hard for me to believe that I found a site for the Cloud Appreciation Society which is filled with poetry about clouds. Here is their site:
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Some humor:
Before Michaelangelo the Pope tried having the Sistine Ceiling
painted by the finest cat artist in the land.
Peace until next week,
Bill Lagerstrom
