"Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free."
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~ Jalal al-Din Muḥammad Rumi |
Why can't you hear what the flowers white said to the fountains faraway in a moonlit night? Why your journey cease on the edge of the petals each time while sways them wind?
Why you claim yourself a listener, when you can unable to hear flowers and fountains to each other echo what in a cloudy day! Why you claim yourself as an ally of wind, while you unaware completely are of that flowers are the poesy of a shapeless painter : Wind!
Who can't hear the unheard is not a listener. Who can't perceive smelling the wind which canyon's balmy it carries never be a mystic. Who can't yet experience the brushstro
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~ Muhammad Aazan
In the land of ice and fire.
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▪Volendam | The Netherlands
As well as being famous for their fishing heritage, The Volendammers are also well known for their distinctive music, which is called Palingsound (literally "eel sound"). Wherever you turn they seem to spontaneously break out a chorus of traditional folk songs.
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~ Jimmy Nelson
“I tried to imagine myself a long time ago, in the lands where these stories were first told, during the long winter nights perhaps, under the glow of the northern lights.”
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~ Neil Gaiman
▪Urk | The Netherlands
The old village of Urk still oozes the taste and feel of the fishing island of the old days. The harbour buzzes with activity. Fish is offloaded, boats are constructed and in the evenings the locals stroll the streets, some dressed proudly in their traditional costumes with their children or tour the village. Alive and kicking it definitely still is! The reason is that these entrepreneurial and resolute former islanders didn't give up after their fishing grounds were drained. They now call this 'the miracle of Urk'. They simply started building larger boats and set their sights on the North Sea. Urk's fishing industry is busier than ever. Urk now boasts the largest fish auction and market in the Netherlands as well as one of the largest following of the traditional Island dress.
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~ Jimmy Nelson | Soul of Indigenous Culture
Henningsvær- A charming fishing village of Norway beautified with dramatic landscape of mountains, crystal clear water and imposing bridges.
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~ Ingrid R.Henning | Poem of Mother Earth
The Yamuna wetlands become a host to migratory birds, serving as a home until the climatic conditions are stabilized in their homelands.
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~ Infatuation | Beautiful Destinations
Lightning on the horizon and stars above the erupting Volcan de Fuego (Fire Volcano).
~ Ihserfat | Guatemala, Nov'19
▪What is the Moon doing?
The Moon rises and sets every day, like the Sun. But the Sun always rises in the morning and sets in the evening; the Moon does it at a different time every day.
At New Moon, the Moon lies in the same direction as the Sun. But the Moon is orbiting around the Earth; every day, it moves eastwards (further left from the Sun) by about 12 degrees. This means that it increasingly lags behind the Sun, by about 50 minutes a day.
At New Moon, the Moon rises in the morning; it's at its highest, in the south, in the middle of the day and it sets in the evening - just like the Sun. Of course this is academic, since we can't see the Moon when it's New!
Over the next few days, as the Moon grows to a crescent, it moves further left, and lags more and more behind the Sun. Soon we can see it in the evenings, still above the western horizon when the Sun has already set.
By First Quarter, the Moon is one-quarter of the way around its orbit (and half illuminated). It is now 90 degrees to the left of the Sun, and lags behind it by 6 hours. So it rises in the middle of the day, it's high in the south at sunset, and it sets in the middle of the night.
Over the next few days, as the Moon grows to a gibbous phase (more than half-illuminated), it continues to lag further behind, rising later each afternoon and setting later each night.
At Full Moon, the Moon is opposite to the Sun - 180 degrees away, and 12 hours behind it. So the Moon rises as the Sun is setting; it's high in the south at midnight, and it sets in the morning, at sunrise.
Over the next few days, as it shrinks back to gibbous again, it rises later in the night.
By Last Quarter, the Moon is 270 degrees to the left of the Sun - or 90 degrees to the right of it; and it lags 18 hours behind the Sun - or it's 6 hours ahead. So it rises in the middle of the night, it's high in the south at dawn, and it sets in the middle of the day.
Over the next few days, as
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
...At one point, the expedition became so difficult and freezing, the group was reduced to eating candles to survive. When temperatures finally became more bearable, Sacajawea found, dug and cooked roots to help the group regain their strength. On the return trip, they encountered an Indian wearing a beautiful fur robe.Lewis and Clark wanted to bring the robe to Thomas Jefferson as a gift but had nothing to trade for it. So, Sacajawea agreed to trade her most precious possession, her beaded belt, for the fur..."
~ The True Story of Sacajawea |
"...In Christian tradition the Perseid meteor showers symbolize the tears of a saint, Saint Lawrence, who was executes in August of the year 258, and in the first century A.D., the astronomer Ptolemy believed that shooting stars were a sign of the Gods looking upon mortals and listening to their wishes...
~ Cosmology
"Some men go through a forest and find no firewood."
~ English Proverb
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