Tabula Rasa
Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper void of all characters, without any ideas. How comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store… Continue reading
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Seven Swans
When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green; And every goose a swan, lad And every lass a queen; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round… Continue reading
Snow Haze Shoreline
The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky–seemed to lead into the heart… Continue reading
Platte River’s Winter Dunes
The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare to let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure. – Richard Bach
South Boardman Swans
Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. – Wallace Stevens