Archive for July, 2006

Posting Notes

Tuesday, July 25th, 2006




A friend just reciently built a blog but is having trouble getting pictures to post. This is a try to see if I can manage it again myself. I notice a icon of a picture just above where I am typing this.
I will see if that works. If so, my friend may try it, and find success.
That last move didnot work.
I will now try pasting a picture. I opened one of my pictures in word, copyed it to the
clipboard and will now attempt to paste it below.
Didn’t work.
I will try something else. Magic.
Even magic failed. So much for blogging pictures.
I wish I could talk to Mr. Blogger.com
Now! I got three for the price of one! I used the icon as I talked about in the beginning.
I know this is not very helpfull. Keep trying. It just may respont to stubborness. ( However I am not stubborn!)

Hollis

A Summer’s Play

Monday, July 17th, 2006

Life has ceased. Nothing grows. Nothing moves. The land is silent, patient, mouth agape with parched lips. The heat is oppressive, pervasively covering the land in a pall. Color is gone. All things are monotone tan. The sky and the earth blend into one. There is no up, no down, no now, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The air is heavy, still, asleep unmoving, uncaring. Leaves hang limp, curled waiting. Grass has prostrated itself in prayer upon the earth’s dusty bosom with only a quite hope. The sky is mantled in brown haze with only a finger of wispy clouds.
The scorching sun marches slowly across the sky as if he had all day. Finally with what seems a year he falls reluctantly behind the sweltering cedar covered hills. Timidly the dark creeps in. The night blots out all the world except the heat and an ominous expectancy. Few stars peek down and wink for fear of being accused of mockery.
From the northwest, as if in a dream comes a flash of light. A flash of light that seems to be only a thought, a hope.
There, again a gentle, silent flash, but this time real. This time indeed a wink of light.
Expectantly earth and life hold its breath. Was it real? Could it be? Possibly? THERE! Again and again a burst of light. A gentle low rumble is more felt than heard. The flashing light begins a visual display illuminating the far hills. In counter point the rumble becomes a cacophony of music. The rumble creeps across the hills, through the meadows, down the valleys and creases the dry world with a velvet glove.
Gently a smell drifts by, buoyed by a rustling breeze. A smell of hay. A smell of new, damp hay! A smell of hope, a smell of promise.
With the cannonade of thunder and a swish of wind the curtain is drawn for the opening act of an ageless pageant. The parched leaves stir, the trees sway, the heat surrenders and hastily retreats. Flash and thunder crack in unison of a drum roll with lights. The first fat drops of cool refreshing water splash down and are quickly blotted by the powder dry earth. The cold rain dashes itself against the trees, the grass, the waiting earth in a furry of a raging bull. Dust is soon inundated and becomes puddles, breaks away to become Lilliputian streams. Pools quickly form to catch the new drops in a hissing, impatient sound. The lightening, thunder and audacious wind march quickly on. The quenching, life giving rain settles down to the business of succoring the parched earth and its children. With a satisfied smile all life goes peacefully to sleep.
Morning comes softly. Morning breaks clear. Morning awakens to a new earth. Leaves wave plump in the gentle breeze. Swaying grass glistens with the timid morning sun. The earth’s bosom is soft, full, nursed. Life begins again.