A PAIR OF FIBBERS

Once upon a time at a countryside village, there were two best friends called Nero and Simon, who lived in two ramshackle houses in close proximity to each other. They were also the youngest of their many siblings and so they often were ignored. Being of similar temperament and preferring idleness to mundane daily chores, the co-conspirators Nero and Simon never failed to sneak off each and every day to some prearranged point to partake in some wildly imaginative adventures.

One such place was the nearby lake, a sizeable watercourse, with snaking shorelines, sometimes hidden with tall bulrushes, which extended for miles and miles. As the two friends both loved fibbing and being quite adept at swimming, they often chose to frolic at the unfrequented segment of this large lake. 

This part once had plenty of fish but presently, if there were any fish there at all, they swam undisturbed and secure amidst the miasma of tall underwater weeds.  Sometime prior some fishermen had been ensnared by this thick underwater vegetation and consequently drowned at this very spot. As others followed suit and corpses piled up the legend quickly spread about a vengeful Dragon King. This deterred many trespassers. This Dragon King was furious, as he had been cast down from the Heavens for some infractions and forced to take up residence in this insignificant lake.

 Having wild and lively imaginations Nero and Simon were frequently drawn to this place and often made it their fun pastime to go on a quest to vanquish colossal monsters lurking in some shadows and deep recesses of the water.  

As an added amusement each also fashioned wild claims just to see if they could hoodwink the other.

On this particular day, having snuck off again to seek another adventure, Nero and Simon eventually took refuge from the burning rays of the midday sun in the shade of a huge tree.  Nero was drawing some imaginary lines in the ground when, finding the piece of meat he’d put in his pocket earlier on that morning, suddenly looked up and said:

“You know what, Simon? I was just thinking. This shade is well and good here but, hmm, thus far everything you and I had said, and you know it too, is all malarkeys.  Why don’t we cool off and wash out all this nonsense stuffing up our mind? But the lake waters are not so good here; do you dare go to that forbidden spot?”

“I’m no coward, lead on!” Simon jumped to his feet.

Nero reached the spot first and, without hesitation, dove in. When he finally emerged from the water, he sported a wry (sardonic) grin on his face and, producing the meat, settled down in a shady spot and began to chew on it.

Simon quickly picked himself up from where he’d collapsed panting from the exertion. Reminded of his growling stomach, he wanted the same. Looking wistful at the yummy morsel, he licked his chops and asked: “Where did you get that meat?”

“Oh, this?” Nero smiled. “The Dragon King was holding a feast and when he learned that I especially came to see him and pay my respect to the mighty dragon; highly pleased, he ordered his servant to give me, as reward, a plateful of appetizing (tasty) morsels. This delectable peace I saved to eat later, as I am doing now.

“Oh, my word!” He licked his lips. “Wow, this meat is truly heavenly; wow, its so delicious it must be slice from defeated Heavenly warrior's flesh...One that had incurred the wrath of the mighty Dragon and got bested. Or perhaps, a renegade sea-monster that displeased His Highness, the Blue Dragon.”

“I want some too!  I too am deserving of such a reward.” Simon immediately removed his sweat soaked clothes and dove into the water.

Simon had dove in so fast that he smashed his head against a huge rock; in his confused state, however, he imagined the obstruction, which he’d bumped into, being the Dragon's nose.

He emerged with a trail of blood streaming down his forehead.

“What happened?” Nero asked with concern. “How on earth did you hurt your head?”

Not wanting to admit defeat, Simon shook his head and grumbled: “The Dragon King was angry because I was tardy and beat me over the head with a drumstick. The pain is unbearable."

The End.

 

The Way of Water

The Way of Water

   

Highest good is like water.

Because water excels in benefiting the myriad creatures without contending with them and settles where none would like to be, it comes close to the way.

The weak and the supple overcome the hard and the strong.

To yield is to be preserved whole.

To be bent is to become straight.

To be empty is to be full . . .

To have little is to possess.

The stiff and the hard are companions of death,

The supple and the weak are companions of life.

There is nothing softer and weaker than water,

And yet there is nothing better for attacking hard and strong things.

The whole world recognizes the beautiful as the beautiful, yet this is only the ugly;

The whole world recognizes the good as the good, yet this is only the bad.

Thus something and nothing produce each other;

The difficult and the easy complement each other;

The long and the short off-set each other;

The high and the low incline towards each other;

Note and sound harmonize with each other;

Before and after follow each other

In a home it is the site that matters; 

In quality of mind it is depth that matters;

In an ally it is benevolence that matters;

In speech it is good faith that matters;

In government it is order that matters;

In affairs it is ability that matters;

In action it is timeliness that matters.

It is because it does not contend that it is never at fault.

Of old he who was well versed in the way

Was minutely subtle,

Mysteriously comprehending,

And too profound to be known. 

It is because he could not be known

That he can only be given a makeshift description:

Tentative, as if fording a river in winter,

Hesitant, as if in fear of his neighbors;

Formal like a guest;

Falling apart like the thawing ice;

Thick like the uncarved block;

Vacant like a valley;

Murky like muddy water.

Who can be muddy and yet, settling, slowly become limpid?

Who can be at rest and yet, stirring, slowly come to life?

He who holds fast to this way desires not to be full.

It is because he is not full that he can be worn and yet newly made.

If people do not revere the Law of Nature,

It will inexorably and adversely affect them.

If they accept it with knowledge and reverence,

It will accommodate them with balance and harmony

Attain complete emptiness,

Maintain steadfast quietude.

All things flourish

But each one returns to its root.

This return to its root means tranquility.

To hold and fill to overflowing,

Is not as good as it is to stop in time.

Sharpen a sword-edge to its very sharpest,

And the edge will not last long.

Withdraw as soon as your work is done.

Such is Heaven's Way.


(Lao Tzu)

Fin

Ode to Autumn

Ode to Autumn

“No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace

As I have seen in one Autumnal face.”

John Donne

Leaves

"How silently they tumble down

And come to rest upon the ground

To lay a carpet, rich and rare,

Beneath the trees without a care,

Content to sleep, their work well done,

Colors gleaming in the sun.



At other times, they wildly fly

Until they nearly reach the sky.

Twisting, turning through the air

Till all the trees stand stark and bare.

Exhausted, drop to earth below

To wait, like children, for the snow."

(By Elsie N. Brady)

"O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being.

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing."

By Percy Bysshe Shelley 

"November comes

And November goes,

With the last red berries

And the first white snows.



With night coming early,

And dawn coming late,

And ice in the bucket

And frost by the gate.



The fires burn

And the kettles sing,

And earth sinks to rest

Until next spring."


By Elizabeth Coatsworth

“Every season hath its pleasures;

Spring may boast her flowery prime,

Yet the vineyard’s ruby treasures

Brighten Autumn’s sob’rer time.”

Thomas Moore

"When the trees their summer splendor

Change to raiment red and gold,

When the summer moon turns mellow,

And the nights are getting cold;

When the squirrels hide their acorns,

And the woodchucks disappear;

Then we know that it is autumn,

Loveliest season of the year."

By Carol L. Riser, Autumn

“Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."

[Letter to Miss Eliot, Oct. 1, 1841]”

― George Eliot

"The morns are meeker than they were,

The nuts are getting brown;

The berry's cheek is plumper,

The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,

The field a scarlet gown.

Lest I should be old-fashioned,

I'll put a trinket on."

By Emily Dickinson

Lyric of Autumn

"There is music in the meadows, in the air --

Autumn is here;

Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow,

Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow;

Pines are soughing, birches stir,

And the Gipsy trail is fresh beneath the fir.

There is rhythm in the woods, and in the fields,

Nature yields:

And the harvest voices crying,

Blend with Autumn zephyrs sighing;

Tone and color, frost and fire,

Wings the nocturne Nature plays upon her lyre."



By William Stanley Braithwaite

"I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its tone is mellower, its colours are richer, and it is tinged with a little sorrow. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and its content."

Lin Yutang

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower."

Albert Camus

"Come said the wind to

the leaves one day,

Come o're the meadows

and we will play.

Put on your dresses

scarlet and gold,

For summer is gone

and the days grow cold."

- A Children's Song of the 1880's

AUTUMN WOODS

I like the woods

In autumn

When dry leaves hide the ground,

When the trees are bare

And the wind sweeps by

With a lonesome rushing sound.

I can rustle the leaves

In autumn

And I can make a bed

In the thick dry leaves

That have fallen

From the bare trees

Overhead.

By James S. Tippett 

The Last Leaf

by Harry Behn



A few leaves stay for a while on the trees

After their color begins to turn,

And no other leaves seem as gold as these

Not even the ones our bonfires burn

With golden flames in piles on the ground.

A few leaves stay so long that I found

The one last leaf on a tree in the snow,

And when a galloping wind came round

The edge of our house and started to blow

Snow dust to sparkles floating free.

When the wind ran away, almost with me,

And sunshine settled quiet and cold.

There, like a bird, still on the tree

Was that lonesome leaf, no longer gold

But curly and brown and dry and old.

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute

Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Robert Browning

The End

Spring Thaw 2014

Spring Thaw

After the long drawn out winter where the endless snowy days at times tried our patience, who wouldn't welcome the hopeful signs of spring thaw?

Everything begins anew in spring after the thaw.

“Bowed down then preserved;

Bent then straight;

Hollow then full;

Worn then new;

A little then benefited;

A lot then perplexed.” 

“The way is empty, yet use will not drain it.

Deep, it is like the ancestor of the myriad creatures.

Blunt the sharpness;

Untangle the knots;

Soften the glare;

Let your wheels move only along old ruts.”

“As a thing the way is

Shadowy and indistinct.

Indistinct and shadowy,

Yet within it is an image;

Shadowy and indistinct,

Yet within it is a substance.

Dim and dark,

Yet within it is an essence.

This essence is quite genuine

And within it is something that can be tested.

From the present back to antiquity,

Its name never deserted it.”

“Highest good is like water. 

Because water excels in benefiting the myriad creatures without contending with them and 

settles where none would like to be, it comes close to the way.”

“Tentative, as if fording a river in winter,

Hesitant, as if in fear of his neighbors;

Formal like a guest;

Falling apart like the thawing ice;

Thick like the uncarved block;

Vacant like a valley;

Murky like muddy water.

Who can be muddy and yet, settling, slowly become limpid?

Who can be at rest and yet, stirring, slowly come to life?

He who holds fast to this way

Desires not to be full.

It is because he is not full

That he can be worn and yet newly made.”

Tao

With baited breath we await the arrival of warmth, sunshine and Fun.

The End.