Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
John Gillespie MaGee, Jr.
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
John Gillespie MaGee, Jr.
Tags: Quoting
I saw it from that hidden, silent place
Where the old wood half shuts the meadow in.
It shone through all the sunset’s glories – thin
At first, but with a slowly brightening face.
Night came, and that lone beacon, amber-hued,
Beat on my sight as never it did of old;
The evening star – but grown a thousandfold
More haunting in this hush and solitude.
It traced strange pictures on the quivering air –
Half-memories that had always filled my eyes –
Vast towers and gardens; curious seas and skies
Of some dim life – I never could tell where.
But I knew that through the cosmic dome
Those rays were calling from my far, lost home.
H.P. Lovecraft
Tags: Quoting
We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
Viktor Frankl
Tags: Quoting
The beer is sour. My mood is not. At Eddyline in Salida, where everything is excellent, on our way to Crested Butte for a weekend jaunt.
Atop the Continental Divide at Cottonwood Pass, 12,126 feet above sea level, ladies and gents. Water two above drains to the east, while just above to the west. How-dy do.
Taylor Reservoir mid squall. Rain will be the overarching theme of the weekend. You really never know what the weather holds in the high country!
We’re here! Crested Butte has such a quaint old west mining town main drag. Such a rainbow!
Slayed.
Everyone can bicycle.
The view from the end of the lane. Pretty spectacular.
Casual butterfly. Also, new 70’s science teacher vibe glasses. Very good.
*Juniper, while not pictured, did tag along, and was quite happy to do dog things.
Diorama!! I know I have mentioned my deep love for dioramas and miniatures in this space (my first short story, written in third grade, was “the Case of the Missing Miniatures”). They are the bees knees, the tops, every little thing. This is at the cute Crested Butte Museum, and if you go, please do drop a quarter in the machine to make the model train go round. Greg did, and it made our life size hearts dance a little jiggity-jig.
A fine weekend of not terribly much, which suited us just fine!
Tags: Colorado