When The Lamp is Shattered

When The Lamp Is Shattered

When the lamp is shattered,
The light in the dust lies dead;
When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow's glory is shed;
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.

As music and splendor
Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart's echoes render
No song when the spirit is mute:--
No song but sad dirges,
Like the wind through a ruined cell,
Or the mournful surges
That ring the dead seaman's knell.

When hearts have once mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possessed.
O Love! who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?

Its passions will rock thee,
As the storms rock the ravens on high;
Bright reason will mock thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Light-Keeper

The Light-Keeper
by Robert Louis Stevenson

The brilliant kernel of the night,
The flaming lightroom circles me:
I sit within a blaze of light

Held high above the dusky sea.
Far off the surf doth break and roar
Along bleak miles of moonlit shore,

Where through the tides the tumbling wave
Falls in an avalanche of foam
And drives its churned waters home
Up many an undercliff and cave.

··· Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894 ···

Dusk a Colorful Spectrum at Port Austin

Dusk to early evening images of the beach at Port Austin on Lake Huron.  The lake was very still and slimmers like blue glass with very few waves.  Lake Huron is large and deep but totally different from an ocean with no tide and very little breeze. I understand that these great lakes can be treacherous in rough weather and storms and have such large waves that they can and have destroyed large freight cargo vessels. Peaceful images like these can be deceiving.

Sitting on the Dock in the Rain

Sitting on the Dock in the Rain

Rain clouds gathering overhead,
Thunder roaring from the darkness,
Gusty winds stinging my face,
Walking as fast as I can
Down the cobblestone lanes,
Horse hitch wagons splashing puddles,
People flocking like larks,
Shaking off the raindrops,
No umbrellas to spare,
Sitting on the dock in the rain.

Rain fallin down in buckets,
Pouring down the planks,
Every bench drenching wet,
Stranded here for awhile,
On an island with no cover,
Dampness creeping into my shoes,
Sea gulls flying against the wind,
Squawking around every bend,
Sitting on the dock in the rain,
Hoping for the ferry to come in.

By PL Fallin

Ojibawa Indian's Sacred White Rock

 

The White Rock was a  large limestone boulder about a half mile from the shore of Lake Huron. Over the years it has broken into many large chunks from centuries of frozen ice and storms. The White Rock was a sacred place to the Ojibawa Indians. Many ceremonies and special councils were held on this rock. They would use the boulder as a sacrificial altar to the Great Spirit, Gitchi Manitou; placing freshly killed game and other foods so that the Great Spirit could feast while no one was looking. In return, the Indians would be rewarded with success in their hunting, victory over their enemies, and protection in their canoes as they moved along the coast.

Bad Axe, Michigan & Lake Huron

We had to say goodbye to the great lakes and Lake Huron was our last stop.  We stopped at the beach outside of  Bad Axe, Michigan and took a few pictures on a beautiful sunny afternoon.  That morning I had visited a friend's farm and took several pictures of his 200 acres.  They had just harvest several fields that week.