Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Friday, July 22, 2016

In the morning, in the bath


Pangur Ban

I and, my cat
'Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.

'Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way:
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Bán, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Tree huggers

"The first tree huggers were 294 men and 69 women belonging to the Bishnois branch of Hinduism, who, in 1730, died while trying to protect the trees in their village from being turned into the raw material for building a palace. 
They literally clung to the trees, while being slaughtered by the foresters. 
But their action led to a royal decree prohibiting the cutting of trees in any Bishnoi village. 
And now those villages are virtual wooded oases amidst an otherwise desert landscape. 
Not only that, the Bishnois inspired the Chipko movement (which means “to cling”) that started in the 1970s, when a group of peasant women in Northeast India threw their arms around trees designated to be cut down. 
Within a few years, this tactic, also known as tree satyagraha, had spread across India, ultimately forcing reforms in forestry and a moratorium on tree felling in Himalayan regions."

Snowy and me


Night light


Monday, July 18, 2016

Tonight's moon


A lovely evening spent with our (adult) children, their partners and our grandsons, eating together, playing board games, sitting by the fire. Very, very enjoyable.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Golden Rice #3 - letter to the editor, The Southland Times

The billions of people who eat rice as their staple food like their rice white. 
They won't grow or eat yellow rice. 
"Golden Rice", the poster-child for the G.E. industry, is a failure; it stores badly, grows poorly and isn't wanted anywhere. 
We don't grow rice down here in Southland. 
Pasture grass is our main crop.
The G.E. industry has its eyes on that crop too. 
When they come to try to sell their genetically-engineered product to the Southland public, they'll probably call it, "Golden Grass".



Grey morning


Friday, July 15, 2016