While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
My heart would brim with dreams about the times
When we bent down above the fading coals
And talked of the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
And of the wayward twilight companies
Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
Because their blossoming dreams have never bent.
– Robert Louis Stevenson
I’m young and free, the world is so tiny yet entirely vast. It could be my inner cowboy speaking, but I choose to live life to the fullest as the world still has uncharted territory. I cannot and will not stand for a big shot dictating my time. If that means working my tail off to be independent then that is the burden I must carry.
Quicksand is a mass of sand, clay, and dirt that is porous enough that water becomes trapped forming thick liquid muck.
When one thinks of quicksand I bet you can visualize Indiana Jones being swallowed up instantly by a pit of despair. While there is some truth – it is unlikely for it to happen that way. Not to say that quicksand should be taken lightly, however it is ultimately possible to escape without a bullwhip. While hiking along the Virgin River in Zion National Park, my group stumbled upon a patch of jiggly almost rubber-esque mud. This can indicate – quicksand. It was a little unnerving as I had never come across it. Alas, after assessing the situation, the decision was ultimately poke and prod – and keeping my dog Mac, far from it.
In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on. – Robert Frost
Winter is coming. This week the temperatures plummeted from mid-nineties to the upper sixties in a flash. Every morning I leave for school around 6:30AM, this morning it was forty-seven and – I’m bundled up like a burrito. I suppose I can’t be satisfied as I always comment about the heat and now that it is cold, I’m still complaining. When moving from a colder climate to a warmer climate, it takes a little time, clearly, for your blood to thin. What happens is just that slowly but surely. 2012 brought on the move from mostly cold and humid Pennsylvania to the dry inferno that is Arizona. I had not an inkling that I would ever think the sixties were cold. Here are my six realizations since I have acclimatized:
The first year of living in AZ my closet used to exist packed with jackets and sweaters – warmth. I used nothing so I began the process of donating and tossing everything to make way for suitable alternatives. Forward to this year I have purchased in the last six months two jackets, long-sleeved tops and a fleece. Granted I needed them in Ireland and camping in the north, however as I write I’m cuddled in a cable knit green sweater.