Miriam Sagan's Blog On the Forthcoming Book

https://miriamswell.wordpress.com/2015/10/21/rod-scott-on-the-churches-of-alabama/

Laughter

My father sleeps under the blue lagoon
dreaming sweetly of grassy days in
dappled sunlight,
cousins playing vibrantly around
the many ancient oaks,
hiding behind the trunks with
fierce intent....

Scream! Leap! Tackle!

The children lay rolling in
bales of laughter, caring
not for dirt stains, or
scuff marks,
only for
laughter.


Owl's Nest - Wildacres - NC - October 7, 2015.

Yale University Photo Archive Of The Depression Released

http://beautifuldecay.com/2015/10/14/yale-university-releases-170000-incredible-photos-great-depression/









Sent from my portable computer.

Appropriate Tools For Writing

Haiku 14

Haiku 14

Grey ghosts fly overhead
Together in a vee shape –
No honking today.

Sent from my iOS phone.

Explanation ....

I've been experimenting with updating this blog via email.

Here are a couple of the ways that do not work:

          1) The Day One app.    This is my favorite app for writing on the phone.  However, when                      you send a note via email it clutters the subject line with a title that is relevant to the
               date the Day One app sent the file.  Your note Title is missing.

          2)  Evernote.  This is my favorite app for organizing notes.  However, when you share via                      email the shared "Work Chat" becomes an icon to click, therefore you cannot update this
            blog in that manner.


The one thing I did learn was that when using standard email to update this blog the contents of the subject line become the title of the blog entry.  Perfect!

If I forget the subject line, the first line of the article becomes the title of the entry.  --- Not optimal!

NIGHTSIGHT

Nightsight

Cloud caressing towers create man

made canyons that drown in 

dusk induced darkness.

Vagrant wind glances down the dusty street

startles windows and slaps soiled

newspapers across yellow lines.

Humpbacked shadows flicker like

indecisive moths

circling unevenly spaced street lights.

Colorless cars evade airborne paper

skirting pools of halogen light

stirring the shadows into decisive action.

Harrowing loneliness radiates from my marrow

pervades thoughts of my tomorrow and

strangle my fears of yesterday.

Solitary vertigo overwhelms my sight,

diminishes my spirit and 

quenches the fires of the night.

Birmingham, AL - February 21, 1990

The evening view from my cubicle on the

13th floor. 

Pre Autumn Chill

Pre Autumn Chill

The bird calls echo through the tall wooden
columns, underneath the leafy cathedral
ceiling, among the randomly arrayed
understory comprised of brilliant foliage,
shrubs, rotted debris, and four legged
creatures scurrying about in search of
food.

The calliopeic warble of the different
Avian families rebound and re echo from
corners of the cathedral, a building with no
walls, a building with no windows, open to
atmospheric flights of aerial mastery,
and the approachment of Autumn.

A chilled sunrise in late August speaks
Autumnal murmurations at the
latitude of thirty three degrees above the
equator; bringing a loving reminder that
alas, awhile burning summer heat is not banished
from the Southern landscape,
—– it's days are numbered.


Elmore N. Scott, Jr. ©
  August 26, 2015 -
 , Hoover, AL, United States

Sent from my iOS phone.

The Worst Hard Time

An extraordinary book about America's greatest climate disaster. The Worst Hard Time tells the story of the people caught up in the circumstances that led to a greed fueled desire to get rich, at the expense of the greatest grasslands on the North American continent. As the disaster unfolded the reader is taken into the dust filled lives of the ordinary people who watched their land dry up and blo...w away. Who knew that at one point the dust made it all the way to New York City and Washington D.C. and blew more than 200 miles out into the Atlantic Ocean . By the end of the book you have met many memorable characters, historic people, and the ordinary people who had to decide whether to leave or stay as their soil, their farms and their towns blew away.

from: Rod Scott

Hi Nimrodscott



http://dealsonfitness.info/clearly.php?cover=kk9kgek58uvzw9bx





nimrodscott@yahoo.com
Nimrodscott

Sent from my iPhone

John Cook Makes a Great Point about Communication

Scientists are from Mars, Laypeople are
from Venus:
An Evidence-Based Rationale for
Communicating the Consensus on Climate
John Cook and Peter Jacobs


http://reports.ncse.com/index.php/rncse/article/view/347/599

97% - The Evidence has been conclusive for years

Relevance

Are monastics and hippies and poets relevant? No, we're deliberately irrelevant. We live with an ingrained irrelevance which is proper to every human being. The marginal person accepts the basic irrelevance of the human condition, an irrelevance which is manifested above all by the fact of death. The marginal person, the monastic, the displaced person, the prisoner, all these people live in the presence of death, which calls into question the meaning of life. They struggle with the fact of death in themselves, trying to seek something deeper than death, because there is something deeper than death, and the office of the monastic or the marginal person, the meditative person, is to go beyond death, even in this life to go beyond the dichotomy of life and death and to be, therefore, a witness to life.

- Thomas Merton, "Clouds and Water"

I've dreamed of this photo for about 15 years. During that time I've stood in this spot gazing to the west at this particular mountain range under a wide variety of light conditions. I've seen these mountains in morning light, sunset silhouette, broad daylight, wrapped in clouds, wreathed in clouds (as you see here) and under a cloudless sky.  

This photo contains the entire range of the Black Mountains in North Carolina. Actually, that is only partially true. What you see here is the highest peaks of the North-Central portion of the range. Mt. Mitchell, the highest peak east of the Rocky Mountains is near the middle of the photo. 

What I love about this photo is that the air was clear, and that clouds were clustered around the range. The shadows cast by those clouds under strong sunshine add to the visual beauty of the lower slopes of The Blacks.  

Hopefully this will not be my last photo of this part of The Black Mountains. I'm looking forward to exploring this viewpoint in the near future.

One of my favorite places - The top of Mount Mitchell, NC

Orion Departs: Mar 14, 2013

Orion Departs

Orion slips to the West, tilting as
He removes himself from
easy view in the pre midnight
sky.

Mid March cold flows down the
yard like a sluggish river bereft
of water craft,
chilling unprotected ankles
freezing toes.

The Barred Owl announces
to the small four legged that their
days may be numbered,
nocturnal hunt will
commence again soon.

My breath floats out
Dissipates…
Moistens the chill night air,
while I think of one who
will no longer be among us
no longer concerned with
impoverished breath.

Rejoice!
Another Saint is admitted
into the Eternal Kingdom!

We are glad,
for he who is no longer among us
suffers no more;
we are sad for he is no
longer among us.

Orion has floated from view.
I stand up, cold stiffened joints
protest a sudden start.
Tomorrow we begin again.
We move toward
that long away day
that day of Reunion in a
Heavenly country.

Copyright
Rod Scott
March 14, 2013

46° Clear
953 Riverchase Pkwy W, Hoover, Alabama, United States

Sent from my portable computer. 

At Peace: Apr 7, 2013

At Peace

Spring rain washed pollen filled skies
Trees shimmering with yellow sunlight
Drip and drop tinged water from
Fresh bright green leaves
born last night under the
warm spring stars.

Pollen yellow fringed puddles
dapple dot the black asphalt
down the hillside
down the roadway,
mosaic of gold and black stretches
the entire length of the Parkway.

Inhaling deeply I Remember:
A warm Spring morning when
I am six years old riding in
the back seat with my
window wound low
an extended arm,
a tilting hand,
surfing the ocean of air
flowing past the car;
My parents are in the front seat;
I am safe
secure
happy in the moment,
not a care in the world.

Rod Scott
copyright 2013
First draft was April 1, 2013
8th version.

Hoover, Alabama

Sent from my portable computer. 

Avian Congress: Apr 11, 2014

Avian Congress

I espied eleven eagles in one glance
gyring over the mighty Tennessee;
A congress of avian might,
clouding above the horizon they
commanded all beneath their wings;

Lowly mortals consigned to speeding along the internet and four wheeled
gasoline powered vehicles have
no power over the Eagle.

Copyright Elmore N. "Rod" Scott, Jr.

 Florence, AL

 

DAWN SLIDES UP THE CURVE OF THE WORLD. Day One Entry: Oct 27, 2013

Dawn slides up the curve of the world
on noiseless clouds, punctured
by mountains that redirect the light,
bending the sight lines to the eye of
the beholder.

Time stops;
then the thrice crowing cock
echoes in the valley below,
sounding among the hills,
and frost crisped fields.

Hidden dark cerulean clouds are
illumined by splintered solar fire,
by solar storms from afar…

In a puff of time, the pre dawn sky,
Coyly yielding to the day,
Departs in a moment,
Exploding into the
dawn sky, the
New Day Sky.

Elmore N. "Rod" Scott, Jr. © 2013

35.0037° N, 84.0295° W

Sent from my mobile phone.

SHACKLEFORD POINT - FEBRUARY Day One Entry: Feb 15, 2014

Shackleford Point - February

In the blue light before dawn the pine needles shiver in the sub freezing air. The north wind causes the trees to sashay in circles while the remnants of last night's fire permeate the air. The animals that are awake at this hour move silently under the trees, their footfalls covered by the wind tossed forest. Deer, quietly nibbling tender branchlets, the fox blinking at the slow light in the East, swift motion beneath the feet of the trees betray the scurry of the chipmunk.

Time stands still as the entire world pauses on the cusp of a new dawn. Fresh breezes blow away the detritus of the previous night, causing fresh insight into the days ahead. For a moment I am young, and old, simultaneously. The juxtaposition is momentarily unnerving, then accepted as the Moment Itself. A Relationship as large as all outdoors kindles the last tendrils of sleep, and unifies all that stood in disarray.

I turn to the North, inhaling the keen breeze, letting it revivify every cell in my body. Singing and tingling with new life, filled with clarified purpose I return to the campfire to make coffee.

Sent from my mobile phone.