More Geese

Hunter's Morning

This is a hunter’s morning. From the early calling of owls and the Northern Harrier flying low over the fields to the small gray cat stalking through the corn (I only notice her because her four white paws catch the light every time she moves). And then there are the hunters tramping through the woods blasting away at anything moving. I can see exactly where they are; the flocks of geese have diverted from their usual route and make a wide swing to either side of the wooded knoll where the hunters wait.

The sunrise is worth dragging myself and all my gear out the door. Clouds are all tipped with gold and vermillion - guess that is only to the east, there are few clouds to the west over the Catskills, although they are building in very slow waves. The clouds are spitting on me - just a few drops of water; not enough to get me wet but enough that I need to cover my camera.

I need more words! The entire eastern sky is aflame with color red, scarlet, crimson, vermillion, orange, yellow - layer upon layer of intense glowing color.
Absolutely breathtaking!

If the colors were not already causing me to loose my breath — this wind would. It is on a real tear. I could believe it had small shards of ice to carry as it is jetting through the air even through my heavy down coat and especially through my fur lined leather gloves — I am Cold!!! Heading in to a warm house, a comfortable recliner, a cup of steaming tea and a good book....

Anniversary of the Gettysburg Address

The Gettysburg Address
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
November 19, 1863
On June 1, 1865, Senator Charles Sumner commented on what is now considered the most famous speech by President Abraham Lincoln. In his eulogy on the slain president, he called it a "monumental act." He said Lincoln was mistaken that "the world will little note, nor long remember what we say here." Rather, the Bostonian remarked, "The world noted at once what he said, and will never cease to remember it. The battle itself was less important than the speech."


Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Winter Trees

Have you ever noticed a tree standing naked against the sky,
How beautiful it is?
All its branches are outlined, and in its nakedness
There is a poem, there is a song.
Every leaf is gone and it is waiting for the spring.
When the spring comes, it again fills the tree with
The music of many leaves,
Which in due season fall and are blown away.
And this is the way of life.
- Krishnamurti

Winter Lace