Tag: writing
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Kicking Leaves in Owego: my imaginarium
[On the left, in the distance, just beyond the white house, just hidden in the morning fog, is the riverbank where I played away my childhood. Photo is mine.] Great Grandpa, what’s an Imaginarium? Oh, Great Grandson, it’s like a rambling and cluttered room, an old room, a very big room. There are lots of…
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the four green fields blog14: the goddesses of the moon
[Unenhanced photo of the moon. Sailing west, looking south. The North Atlantic Ocean. Photo is mine.] Whenever people look at clouds they do not see their real shape, which is no shape at all, or every shape, because they are constantly changing. They see whatever it is that their heart yearns for. ~~Eduardo Agualusa, A…
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the four green fields blog8: a few bumps in the road
[Standing in the English rain, waiting for the sun. The author standing near the entrance of the Natural History Museum, London. Photo taken by Mariam Voutsis.] The scientific theory I like best is that the rings of Saturn are composed entirely of lost airline luggage. ~~Mark Russel Slainte, Ireland. Allow me, gentle reader, to add…
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the four green fields blog7: Confessions of a flawed traveler
[Redwood Castle, Lorrha, Co Tipperary, Ireland. Photo is mine.] So, are ye staying the night? ~~Coleesa Egan My last blog post, No. 6 in my series. Oh, my last post from nearly a week ago. What can an honest man say about my determination to spend the night in my ancestral castle, reputed to be…
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the four green fields blog5: a poet’s grave
[A roadside flower, ready to spread it’s seed. Co Sligo, Ireland. Photo is mine.] When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; ~~from When You are…
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The four green fields blog4: An old cemetery & my Irish family
[A very creaky gate leading into an old cemetery. Photo is mine.] Suaimhneas Siorai Air ~~Old Irish Epitaph “Eternal Rest be Upon Him/Her” The green and rusted rotating gate made a noise that seemed more like a stifled scream of metal against metal. It pierced my ears. The harshness of the sound, under other circumstances,…
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My 700th Blog: Another chapter in a Journey
[The usual metaphor for a journey. Photo is mine.] The life in which nothing happens goes the fastest, because it has no landmarks. ~~Katherine Tynan The last time I reached a milestone, my 600th post, was on Feb. 3, 2023 (at 9:17 PM). Looking back, I have been writing about 100 every several years…it’s been…
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To keep you from being homesick
[The found photograph. By unknown photographer, probably my father.] The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect, and as for that object, it depends upon chance whether we come upon it…
patrickjegan 