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“Ladies and Gentlemen, I stand before you now because I never
stopped dawdling like an eight-year-old on a spring morning on his way to
school. Anything can make me stop and look and wonder, and sometimes learn. I
am a very happy man. Thank you.”
Dr. Hoenikker's Nobel Prize acceptance
speech (in its entirety)
Cat’s Cradle - Kurt Vonnegut
Old jealous corn skeletons stand in disciplined rows -
sheathed in brittle armor – and make their last stand against the rising forces
of spring.
Water percolates into the earth
The clouds … like swaddling cloths.
Birds draw arrows in the sky…eventually
Save for the grass-stained chin, I frequently see this
expression at the daily 10 o’clock scheduling meeting.
It was Mr. T who saw Bill Monroe’s bird watching article in
the March 18th Oregonian – an article that chronicles the current
spring migration, parts of which can be witnessed from select viewing areas
along Rentenaar Road .
Oh!
I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there…,
From
High Flight — John Gillespie Magee, Jr
A reluctantly rising sun correlates loosely to a rising cacophony of opinions - ejaculated into the crisp morning air - a vacillating sonic cloud of indecision - until consensus is reached – then suddenly… “Jump!”
Later, when direct sunbeams hint at summer, the
wild rumpus begins
