Leavings

Our neighborhood appears to be going downhill.
Houses built at the turn of the last century  (when it was possible to raise a family on 40 acres and a mule) abandoned, since it is more efficient to put up a double-wide trailer to live in nowadays than to rework the old structures to be warm, painted,  and bug free.  Once the roof loses integrity it is just a matter of time and a few seasons until structure falls and returns to earth.  Many of us in the area try to document these places through photos before they are just dark rectangles on the old geodesic maps. And this is just a holding action since photos have a habit of accumulating and becoming detritus to be discarded by a future family member who wonders why anyone would take a picture of an old falling-down house.

 This left behind, probably too heavy to move -- and who would tune it?  It is nice to think of the tunes that emanated from this instrument; probably religious music but who knows, maybe "Coming Round the Mountain"  bounced off of the walls on occasion.

Makes me wonder what we will leave behind and what will become of it.  Perhaps a future photographer will walk around our dusty house and wonder "why would they save that old piece of junk?"

Enigma

Moon landings could be assembled at staged setups in the Mohave?
Luddites will rejoice at this shot of a shuttle launch obviously created in someone's living room with digital trickery.  And we all fell for it who watched!



See strong invention engines strange devise,
And ope the mysteries of earth, seas, and skies;
Aid curious art to finish works refin'd,
And teach abstrusest science to mankind.
Up the dread vault, where stars immensely roll,
To heaven, Herschelian tubes conduct the soul;
Where proud Orion heads th' immortal train,
And opes his lucid window through the main;
Where, far beyond this limitary sky,
Superior worlds of liquid splendour lie;
Far other suns diffuse th' unsetting ray,
And other planets roll, in living day,
Truth, bliss, and virtue, age by age, refine,
And unknown nations bask in life divine.


From Timothy Dwight, Greenfield Hill (1794)

Unlike most of the other 18th-century writers represented here, who were British, Dwight was American; this poem dealt chiefly with his conception of an ideal society and was dedicated to John Adams.

No, it is true . . .   this photo of  a  NASA camera shot of the separation of the shuttle from its fuel tank was taken of our television screen, the lamp a reflection.
(It has been a slow winter)

Memphis '68

The black motel where Martin Luther King stayed when in Memphis.  He was there on April 3, 1968 to speak to the 1300 black sanitation workers who were striking for equal treatment with the white workers.  The next day King was shot and killed while leaving his room.  As  leader of  the nonviolent-protest movement for black equality, and a defender of the natural rights of fellow humans, he is a hero of mine.
  I hold high standards for heroes: one must live a life of selfless dedication to others and their welfare over individual comfort; a hard life to live.  I guess mother Teresa would qualify as would Ghandi,  Doctors Without Borders, hospice volunteers, and a thousand others unknown to me but could qualify nonetheless -- you will know them when you feel their grace.

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. The true neighbor will risk his position, his prestige and even his life for the welfare of others."
-- Strength in Love (1963)   Martin Luther King Jr.-- A Baptist Minister

It might seem that he knew of his impending death since the speech the night before ended with these words:

"And then I got to Memphis.  And some began to say the threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers?
Well, I don't know what will happen now, we've got some difficult days ahead.  But it doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop and I don't mind.  Like anybody, I would like to live a long life.   Longevity has its place.  But I'm not concerned about that now.  I just want to do God's will,  and He's allowed me to go up to the mountain.  And I've looked over.  And I've seen the promised land.  I may not get there with you.  But I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land.  And I'm happy tonight.  I'm not worried about anything.  I'm not fearing any man.  Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."     (see text of the complete speech)

On a lighter note, if you ever get to Memphis visit the Peabody Hotel downtown.  They have a group of ducks which are brought down daily on the elevator from their pen on the roof, to waddle over to the fountain in the lobby to spend the day.
  Ducks in Memphis, what a treat!

 I couldn't resist pictures of the ducks and fountain.  The black stone of the fountain is of one piece of travertine marble from Italy, installed in 1925.

It's Always Something!

 Stuck duck in center of  lake quickly frozen over after the winter storm and temperature drop.  He couldn't get any purchase on the smooth ice- flapping and clawing to no avail.   How his 7 associates made it across to stay under the dock is a mystery to me.  (I suspect that they better anticipated the lake freezing but who knows nature?)
 So a rescue was in order and three days later , and  after a warmup to 18°F,  I managed to devise a plan involving a raft, rope, and hunting knives since the ice was too thin  and creaky for me to walk on yet.

 Seven associates under the dock.  We built them a functional duckhouse and enclosure including a chicken-wire top sewn together with aluminum wire ,usually used for electric fencing, to keep out the racoons and owls from above.  (you can barely see it to the right of the chicken house -- sans chickens.)
But keeping them in the duckhouse is another problem even though that is where the food is (mostly dried corn).  They will eat then shoot right back out into the lake even though the fencing for the area extends out into the lake to capture about 6 feet of water.  They are domesticated but not at all very controllable.

This the deflated raft.  It started losing air as I was sitting in it on the ice while using two hunting knives' points to propel it forward while roped to a tree in case the ice broke and I had to pull myself back to shore.
Duck freaks when I get to it but didn't have the strength or the means to get away. Grabbed it and brought it back to shore by pulling on the rope where waiting black dog further freaks out  duck--fortunately it had not eaten in several days! (The duck not the dog)

But all is well; at least in this little corner of the story.