As I write this post we remember is September 11, 2001, the 19th anniversary of the attack on the USA, the loss of the World Trade Center towers, 2,977 deaths, more than 25,000 injuries. The greatest loss of life, in a single event, of firefighters and police (343 and 72).
This morning a 6.2 magnitude earthquake struck the Atacama desert. The photograph is a possible effect of the April Fool’s Day, 2014, 8.4 magnitude earthquake that rocked the desert, further damaging infrastructure throughout the region. The earthquakes are one reason Humberstone was (is?) on the list of endangered World Heritage Sites.
Click any photograph for a larger view and use Ctrl-x to zoom in closer.
To close our time on the Tain Way I offer a poem written and presented to the congregation of the First Unitarian church of Ithaca New York 25 years ago, 1992. Interspersed are final photographs from our walk on the Tain Way of 2014.
The poem content is not directly biographical / confessional although it draws upon my experience as a single parent in the 1980’s through 1990’s.
A Poem Read To The Congregation
a crisis threatened an Irish village
men women children filled the meeting place
everyone participated especially the infants
raising John alone was not part of the plan
Its been just john and me
helen gave birth to john
to have a part of me
in case of loss
i felt the same way
and she understood
feminine voice in our home
“Little House on the Prairie”
“Little House in the Big Woods” twice.
Here is an excerpt from a newspaper article by Wilder
that has an emotional resonance for me
Wilder was in her 50’s.
Out in the meadow, I picked a wild sunflower, and as I looked into its golden heart, such a wave of homesickness came over me that I almost wept. I wanted Mother, with her gentle voice and quiet firmness; I longed to hear Father’s jolly songs and to see his twinkling blue eyes; I was lonesome for the sister with whom I used to play in the meadow picking daisies and wild sunflowers.
Across the years, the old home and its love called to me, and memories of sweet words of counsel came flooding back. I realize that’s all my life the teaching of these early days have influenced me, and the example set by Father and Mother has been something I have tried to follow, with failure here and there, with rebellion at times; but always coming back to it as the compass needle to the star.
So much depends upon the homemakers. I sometimes wonder if they are so busy now with other things that they are forgetting the importance of this special work. Especially did I wonder when reading recently that there was a great many child suicides in the United States during the last year. Not long ago we had never heard of such a thing in our own country, and I am sure there must be something wrong with the home of a child who commits suicide.
we give so much to our children
what’s left over though