Quick Links
Categories
Calendar
| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
XML/RSS Feed
Other Heathen Blogs and Journals
Caryatid's LiveJournal
Boars Heart's LiveJournal
Orn Ransom's LiveJournal
Thorolf's LiveJournal
Falki's LiveJournal
MacRaven
Seledréam
Vanatru's LiveJournal
Expanding Inward
Boars Heart's LiveJournal
Orn Ransom's LiveJournal
Thorolf's LiveJournal
Falki's LiveJournal
MacRaven
Seledréam
Vanatru's LiveJournal
Expanding Inward
Links of Heathen Interest
Other (non-heathen) Blogs
Technorati
Blog Value
My blog is worth $1,693.62.
How much is your blog worth?
Statistics
Total entries in this blog:
Total entries in this category:
Published On: May 05, 2007 09:41 PM
Total entries in this category:
Published On: May 05, 2007 09:41 PM
Transient Blight
This April, the Southeastern US was hit by a cold
snap. Nighttime temperatures for a couple of weeks were frequently below
freezing. The resulting chill killed of the young leaves and chutes, and left
gardeners scrambling with rolls of plastic, attempting to save their early
plants.
As I was traveling to the Smokeys, I saw many many trees bearing only blackened leaves. No one seemed to know what would happen next -- would the trees die? Be bare all year round? A freeze this late was a new one to everyone to whom I spoke; it was almost as if Mother Nature was saying "Global warming? HA! I'll show you!" (Of course, one cold snap doesn't disprove global climate change hypotheses any more than all the windbags on FOX News do.)
And this is the point at which this blog entry is falling flat. Theoretically, this would be the part where I would get up on my soapbox and talk about blight in our own lives, with a meaningful example. Unfortunately, I can't think of one. So in order to overcome this, I need audience participation. I want each of you readers to think of a time in your own life where something unexpected and unpleasant stunted your own growth, or your own ability to feel, or care, or be nourished. Every example I can think of is either only meaningful to myself, or way too personal to put up here.
Now that you're thinking of your own example (if you have had the misfortune of such an experience, and I do believe we all have), think about how it affected you, and for how long. Did you begin to fear that it would never end, that you would never be yourself again?
As I was leaving for Italy, I noticed that the trees were already putting out new leaves. The black, blighted ones still hung in spots, but among them were new green, leafy shoots. From the newscasts I can tell you that the strawberry crops survived, with fewer berries, but larger than usual. I guess that which doesn't kill us really does make us stronger.
Ya'll take care.
As I was traveling to the Smokeys, I saw many many trees bearing only blackened leaves. No one seemed to know what would happen next -- would the trees die? Be bare all year round? A freeze this late was a new one to everyone to whom I spoke; it was almost as if Mother Nature was saying "Global warming? HA! I'll show you!" (Of course, one cold snap doesn't disprove global climate change hypotheses any more than all the windbags on FOX News do.)
And this is the point at which this blog entry is falling flat. Theoretically, this would be the part where I would get up on my soapbox and talk about blight in our own lives, with a meaningful example. Unfortunately, I can't think of one. So in order to overcome this, I need audience participation. I want each of you readers to think of a time in your own life where something unexpected and unpleasant stunted your own growth, or your own ability to feel, or care, or be nourished. Every example I can think of is either only meaningful to myself, or way too personal to put up here.
Now that you're thinking of your own example (if you have had the misfortune of such an experience, and I do believe we all have), think about how it affected you, and for how long. Did you begin to fear that it would never end, that you would never be yourself again?
As I was leaving for Italy, I noticed that the trees were already putting out new leaves. The black, blighted ones still hung in spots, but among them were new green, leafy shoots. From the newscasts I can tell you that the strawberry crops survived, with fewer berries, but larger than usual. I guess that which doesn't kill us really does make us stronger.
Ya'll take care.
Posted: Fri - May 4, 2007 at 11:29 AM |
