The moon lights a translucent sky
o'er Donnelly's hill faded.
Shadows cast of tree and I
as in sunlight pallor jaded.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
"It is mildly unnerving to reflect that the whole of meaningful human history the development of farming, the creation of towns, the rise of mathematics and writing and science and all the rest has taken place within an atypical patch of fair weather. Previous interglacials have lasted as little as eight thousand years. Our own has already passed its ten thousandth anniversary."
[A Short History of nearly Everything - Bill Bryson]
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Traveling the backroads of the Great North WoodsI left on a day that was rainy and grey
White Mountains calling me home
Leaving is something I'll never regret
But I miss them whenever I roam
The mist filled the valleys all around
With each turn I take and with each sunny break
Beautiful vistas abound
(chorus)I dream of the granite cragged steepy rocky slopes
Where eagles and osprey still fly
Trees fill the valleys where clear water flows
through rivers that never run dry.
(chorus)White water lilies abloom in the ponds
Moose graze contently on the shore
I see it while leaving and dream it while gone.
It's there when I return once more.
(chorus)My children and I where the Lost River flows.
Exploring each bouldery cave
I look in their eyes and I see it and know
This is one of our most special days
(chorus)Colors of fall, you can't touch them at all
The reds and the purples and gold
The mountains loom over the seasons that change
It's scenery that never grows old.
(chorus)Winter is special, a blanket of white
Life all around seems to freeze
Stars sparkle bright over crystalline heights
The wind rattles slumbering trees.
(chorus)written August 27, 2005 while returning from Meadowlark Music Camp, Washington, ME * words and music copyright (c) 2005 Michael R. Martin
Download and listen to the rough recording at ftp://cedareden.com/pub/mp3/WhiteMountainMemories.mp3