Thursday, October 18, 2007


Drew's comedy improvisation show on when I came home (preferred to the neverending The War)...then a Feed the Children plea...Africa seems to "have all the pain"...then CSI New York which I paid little attention the news...

And...I want to make something of this Thoreau famous quote, but I'm not sure what!


I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. Henry David Thoreau, Walden


I think the blue indicates it's linked, which is cool as there were 64 quotes of Thoreau... Now, letme put this side by side with something Henry Dana wrote...brb...well, this might take awhile...a pleasant awhile going through Two Years Before the Mast, to find this....


San Juan is the only romantic spot in California. The country here for several miles is high table-land, running boldly to the shore, and breaking off in a steep hill, at the foot of which the waters of the Pacific are constantly dashing. For several miles the water washes the very base of the hill, or breaks upon ledges and fragments of rocks which run out into the sea. Just where we landed was a small cove, or "bight," which gave us, at high tide, a few square feet of sand-beach between the sea and the bottom of the hill. This was the only landing-place. Directly before us, rose the perpendicular height of four or five hundred feet. How we were to get hides down, or goods up, upon the table-land on which the mission was situated, was more than we could tell. The agent had taken a long circuit, and yet had frequently to jump over breaks, and climb up steep places, in the ascent. No animal but a man or monkey could get up it. However, that was not our look-out; and knowing that the agent would be gone an hour or more, we strolled about, picking up shells, and following the sea where it tumbled in, roaring and spouting, among the crevices of the great rocks. What a sight, thought I, must this be in a south-easter! The rocks were as large as those of Nahant or Newport, but, to my eye, more grand and broken. Beside, there was a grandeur in everything around, which gave almost a solemnity to the scene: a silence and solitariness which affected everything! Not a human being but ourselves for miles; and no sound heard but the pulsations of the great Pacific! and the great steep hill rising like a wall, and cutting us off from all the world, but the "world of waters!" I separated myself from the rest and sat down on a rock, just where the sea ran in and formed a fine spouting horn. Compared with the plain, dull sand-beach of the rest of the coast, this grandeur was as refreshing as a great rock in a weary land. It was almost the first time that I had been positively alone — free from the sense that human beings were at my elbow, if not talking with me — since I had left home. My better nature returned strong upon me. Everything was in accordance with my state of feeling, and I experienced a glow of pleasure at finding that what of poetry and romance I ever had in me, had not been entirely deadened by the laborious and frittering life I had led.


I know exactly where this is...and it's now called Dana Point...lemeget the poem that brought me here...

quote (me)


Oh, I thought to go back and have a visit
Richard Henry Dana
Looking about California again
As you did not so long ago
Really, I wonder about myself sometimes
Too it’s good just to have a look
At Yosemite
Half Dome is always there
John Muir on an overlook
Cliffs at Dana Point Harbor now
Is over the tide pools
Wading in as a kid
Reached down and picked up the hermit crabs
Get scared
Everything does sometimes
Hiding away
Trout in Le Conte Canyon
Like a whole row of El Capitans.



The attentive reader of Tree in the Door might even, now, make sense of that!!

Now, the Pilgirm was Dana's "Cabin"... They really need to name a Sierra peak after him....and maybe another just called "Henry"...

(and, while it was unintended, my little poem has led me to think of the rock climbers hereabouts as "trout", insomuch as trout are alway nose into the current, sorta going uphill....cometothink of it oflate, maybe the climbers are like "certhia americanas"!)

Tree in the Door
Oct. 14, 2007
(eek, it's the 18th...I'm all out of synch...)

No comments: