I thought this was a good point.
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
And don’t forget:
…And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen. (Matthew 28:20)
(Tiffany window in the Pullman Memorial Universalist Church, Albion, NY)
A soft veil dims the tender skies,
And half conceals from pensive eyes
The bronzing tokens of the fall;
A calmness broods upon the hills,
And summer’s parting dream distills
A charm of silence over all.The stacks of corn, in brown array,
Stand waiting through the placid day,
Like tattered wigwams on the plain;
The tribes that find a shelter there
Are phantom peoples, forms of air,
And ghosts of vanished joy and pain.At evening when the crimson crest
Of sunset passes down the West,
I hear the whispering host returning;
On far-off fields, by elm and oak,
I see the lights, I smell the smoke,–
The Camp-fires of the Past are burning.
–“Indian Summer” by Henry Van Dyke
The painting is “Summer in the Blue Ridge” by Hugh Bolton Jones. Hugh Bolton Jones (1848-1927) was an American landscape painter. He grew up in Baltimore, Maryland, where he received his early training as an artist. While studying in New York he was strongly influenced by Frederic Edwin Church of the Hudson River School.
I really do love Colorado. A lot of our family history is tied up in the state and quite a few ancestors were buried there in the 19th century. I didn’t get a chance to do any genealogical work while I was out there last week, but being there did whet my appetite.
However, I was able to get out into the fresh air and “smell the pine in my nostrils”–literally.
One morning I ventured to Seven Falls which is located less than one mile from The Broadmoor and is “one of Colorado’s most captivating natural wonders.” This magnificent series of waterfalls is situated in a 1,250-foot-wall box canyon between the towering Pillars of Hercules. I walked up the trail to the base of the falls…
…but I admit I did not climb the “challenging” 224 steps to the hiking trails. Since I had knee surgery ten years ago, no way, and I am not ashamed to say I know my limits.
I rode the elevator up to the observation deck.
It was challenging enough, thank you.
I mentioned yesterday that we went to the art museum at Colorado College.
It had a nice collection of American Art and I enjoyed it and, as you know, I am always ready to visit a college campus. But I have to say, the collection of Western Art at the Broadmoor was every bit as impressive.
Maxfield Parrish’s own rendition of Seven Falls–he climbed higher than I did!
This is just a sample of the wonderful art on view at the hotel. C’est magnifique, n’est-ce pas?
And what about this from the Small World Department? The Mighty Pines band, who played at one of the evening events we went to at the OM’s conference…
…are from STL! We thought they were great, and when we went up to tell them so during one of the breaks, we found out that they know our good friend Gary and that they consider him a “mentor” and good friend. In fact the lead singer is a cousin of a girl with whom daughter #1 went to school. What d’you know, right? We are cooler than we thought.
“Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color; and at the same time the concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows- a colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues — every stately or lovely emblazoning — the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtle deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge — pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like willful travelers in Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?”
–Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
In case you had forgotten, yesterday was Herman Melville’s birthday. (I toasted him at the baseball game.) And FYI–next year will mark the 200th anniversary of his birth, so let’s make a note and plan a party! (I am serious about this.)
By the way, the baseball game was super fun. Our seats were great and the weather was unbelievably perfect, considering it was August 1 in St. Louis! Cool, clear and a nice breeze! The wee babes did great for a couple of innings…and Lottie even sat on my lap for a good long while.
…but the 2nd inning was incredibly long and Lottie lost it after awhile.
Both fingers in her nose and crying!
They left an hour and a half into the game, but The OM and daughter #1 and I stayed until the seventh inning (around 10 o’clock–way past my bedtime.) The Cards were in the lead at the point. (They hung on and won.)
Now it is back to the salt mine for business as usual. Have a good one.
This picture of the Saint Louis Abbey here in town came up on my Instagram feed yesterday and I just have to say that this famous Gyo Obata-designed building may have been cutting edge when it was completed in 1962,
but it still looks like a birthday cake. I’ve never been a fan of poured concrete I guess. The grounds of the Abbey are rather uninspiring, don’t you think?
Here’s a tour of the building.
Cool 1964 Priory yearbook frontispiece with dead tree branch
I have to admit, the St. Louis Abbey is better than St. John’s Abbey Church in Collegeville, MN.
Good Lord, what were they thinking?
In other news, today the Episcopal Church remembers Conrad Weiser–Witness to Peace and Reconciliation–with a feast day on its liturgical calendar. Weiser (November 2, 1696 – July 13, 1760) was a Pennsylvania Dutch pioneer, interpreter and diplomat between the Pennsylvania Colony and Native Americans.
As a child, Conrad Weiser and his family were among thousands of Protestant refugees who left the German Palantine in 1709 for reasons of religious persecution. They traveled to England and then were sent to the New York colony. The Crown supported migration of immigrants to help settle the New York colony, the plan being that they would work off their passage in a form of indenture in camps devoted to producing ships’ stores, such as tar and other materials. Later they would be allowed to trade their work for land. It was not until 1723, however, that some 100 heads of families received land grants in the central Mohawk Valley.
[Side note: If you want to read a really good book about this dishonorable system, I recommend The Free Man by Conrad Richter.]
Weiser eventually moved to Pennsylvania where he became a key player in treaty negotiations, land purchases, and the formulation of Pennsylvania’s policies towards Native Americans. For many years, he helped to keep the powerful Iroquois allied with the British as opposed to the French. This important service contributed to the continued survival of the British colonies and the eventual victory of the British over the French in the French and Indian Wars.
Indeed, Weiser was one cool dude and a lay minister in the Lutheran Church. By the way, Weiser’s daughter Maria married Henry Muhlenberg, whom the Episcopal Church also honors with a feast day (October 7).
Almighty God, of your grace you gave Conrad Weiser the gift of diplomacy, the insight to understand two different cultures and interpret each to the other with clarity and honesty: As we strive to be faithful to our vocation to commend your kingdom, help us to proclaim the Gospel to the many cultures around us, that by your Holy Spirit we may be effective ambassadors for our Savior Jesus Christ; who with you and the same Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Meanwhile, as the temperatures soar here, the wee babes have been keeping cool flyover style.
(By the way, those are bug repellent anklets. They are not on kiddie parole. What’ll they think of next?)
I was reminded that back in 1966 the All-Star game was held in the brand new Busch Stadium here in town. Unfortunately, the temperature that day topped out at 103!
Look at all the men in shirts and ties! I was going to Vacation Bible School at the time and remember my VBS teacher was George Guernsey and he was going to the game that afternoon. We were all jealous, but maybe we needn’t have been!
Well, I am sure glad the weekend is almost here. It’s going to be another hot one…
…but since it has been an unusually busy week at the salt mine, I don’t care. I have no big plans.
What are you doing this weekend?
However you want to spend the 4th of July, I’ll take my cue from those three American flyers in the German prisoner of war camp (surrounded by British officers) in The Great Escape (1962)…waving the flag, playing loud music and sipping some moonshine. (“WOW!”)
Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: “In God is our trust”:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
(Francis Scott Key)
A little flag-waving once a year is a good thing! You can bet that we’ll be waving away and bar-b-que-ing and then heading over to our local high school to watch the local fireworks.
We’ll also be thinking of our handsome big brother and thinking of those 4th of July birthdays of yesteryear. We were a rather quiet and restrained family (some might say uptight) but on the 4th of July we liked to let loose and bang pots and pans. We would put the stereo speakers in the open window and blast Souza marches to unsuspecting, left-wing neighbors. We set off fire crackers and bottle rockets!
Well, here’s hoping our bro has a happy, happy birthday and that it isn’t too staid and dignified!
We hope this is a “big year” for him, at least in the birding sense. Come see a Pied-billed grebe or a Marbled godwit sometime! We have them in Missouri, you know. After all, we live on the Mississippi flyway.
This is the gospel of labor—ring it,
Ye bells of the kirk
The Lord of Love came down from above
To live with the men who work.
This is the rose he planted, here
In the thorn-cursed soil;
Heaven is blest with perfect rest, but
The blessing of earth is toil.
–Henry Van Dyke
(found on the Three Iron Nails blog)
Vincent Van Gogh, The Sower (1988)
“The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”
–Martin Luther
“Good human work honors God’s work. Good work uses no thing without respect, both for what it is in itself and for its origin. It uses neither tool nor material that it does not respect and that it does not love. It honors nature as a great mystery and power, as an indispensable teacher, and as the inescapable judge of all work of human hands. It does not dissociate life and work, or pleasure and work, or love and work, or usefulness and beauty. To work without pleasure or affection, to make a product that is not both useful and beautiful, is to dishonor God, nature, the thing that is made, and whomever it is made for. This is blasphemy: to make shoddy work of the work of God. But such blasphemy is not possible when the entire Creation is understood as holy and when the works of God are understood as embodying and thus revealing His spirit.”
–Wendell Berry (Christianity and the Survival of Creation)
I have a stressful day ahead at work today. Pray and work. All will be well!
We like to say that tempus fugit, but can it really be 199 years since Walt Whitman was born?!
A toast to Walt (May 31, 1819 – March 26, 1892), American poet!
Allons! the road is before us!It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d!Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.Camerado, I give you my hand!I give you my love more precious than money,I give you myself before preaching or law;Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?
Chad’s Ford Landscape by N.C. Wyeth
Wind from the Sea by Andrew Wyeth
The Winding Road by Ernest Lawson
The Road Heading Home by Lee Macleod
Hey, it might be time for a road trip. Sounds like a good idea to me!
Yesterday we highlighted the great James B. Eads. Well, here are a few more fun facts to know and tell about another of those great mid-19th century Americans we love–even though this one has no connection to our flyover town that we know of!
On this day in 1844 Samuel Morse sent the message “What hath God wrought” (Numbers 23:23) from the Old Supreme Court Chamber in the U.S. Capitol to his assistant, Alfred Vail, in Baltimore, Maryland to inaugurate a commercial telegraph line between Baltimore and Washington D.C.
Samuel Finley Breese Morse (April 27, 1791 – April 2, 1872), American painter and inventor, was one of those guys who had it all going on. The son of a fiery Calvinist preacher, he graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Yale and became a noted portrait painter. The Marquis de Lafayette and Presidents Adams and Monroe were among his subjects.
Gallery of the Louvre, 1833–Morse selected masterpieces from the Musée du Louvre’s collection and “reinstalled” them in one of the museum’s grandest spaces, the Salon Carr, envisioning that space as a workshop in which individuals study, sketch, and copy from his imagined assemblage.
His monumental “Gallery of the Louvre” was the culmination of a three-year period of study in Europe. Morse exhibited it only twice, in New York and New Haven, where it was highly praised by critics and connoisseurs but rejected by the public. Crushed by the response, Morse soon ceased painting altogether, moving on to his more successful experiments in communications technology and the invention of the Electro-Magnetic Telegraph.
During 1843, he successfully deployed the 38-mile telegraph line along the way of Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. The first information given by the telegraph was that of the nomination of James K. Polk for the Presidency by the Baltimore convention. The official demonstration of Samuel Morse’s telegraph occurred on May 24, 1844, carrying the famous words “What hath God wrought” from the Supreme Court chamber in Washington D.C. to the B&O’s Mount Clare Station in Baltimore. This demonstration is remembered as the starting point of telegraph’s expansion across the world.
The demands for the telegraph constantly increased; they spread over every civilized country in the world, and became, by usage, “absolutely necessary for the well being of society.” Convinced of their folly in so long ignoring the invention of Prof. Morse, the nations of Europe at once vied with each other in the honors they bestowed upon the inventor. Within the next few years he received respectively the decoration of the Nishan Iflichai, set in diamonds, from the Sultan of Turkey, gold medals of scientific merit from the King of Prussia, the King of Wurtemburg, and the Emperor of Austria; a cross of Chevalier in the Legion of Honor from the Emperor of France; the cross of Knight of Dannebrog from the King of Denmark; the Cross of Knight Commander of the Order of Isabelia the Catholic, from the Queen of Spain, besides being elected member of innumerable scientific and art societies in this and other countries.
And there is a statue of him in Central Park.
“What hath God wrought” is an exclamation of wonder, but we might ask it as a question: “What hath God wrought?”
Discuss among yourselves.
[By the way, on April 1, 2012, Google announced the release of “Gmail Tap,” an April Fool’s Day joke that allowed users to use Morse Code to send text from their mobile phones. Morse’s great-great-grandnephew Reed Morse—a Google engineer—was instrumental in the prank, which ultimately became a real product. 🙄]
*Walt Whitman, “I Sing the Body Electric”
Van Gogh
Ogata Korin (18th century)
YOSHIMOTO （吉本月荘 Japanese, 1881-1936）
“Drab and colorless as her existence would seem to have been, Mrs. Harris had always felt a craving for beauty and color and which up to this moment had manifested itself in a love for flowers….
Outside the windows of her basement flat were two window boxes of geraniums, her favorite flower, and inside, wherever there was room, there was a little pot containing a geranium struggling desperately to conquer its environment, or a single hyacinth or tulip, bought from a barrow for a hard-earned shilling.
Then too, the people for whom she worked would sometimes present her with the leavings of their cut flowers which in their wilted state she would take home and try to nurse back to health, and once in a while, particularly in the spring, she would buy herself a little box of pansies, primroses or anemones. As long as she had flowers Mrs. Harris had no serious complaints concerning the life she led. They were her escape from the somber stone desert in which she lived. These bright flashes of color satisfied her. They were something to return to in the evening, something to wake up to in the morning.”
–Paul Gallico, Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris
dual personalities 