June 6, 2012

This morning it's all about sun . . . all week the weathermen have been pushing back the rain.  It started with a decent chance for rain Tuesday then Wednesday, not they say better chance on Thursday and Friday.  I think that there is really little chance of rain, they just need to have something minimally exciting to talk about, and it's beginning to look like even a chance of rain might be exciting.  It's hot and hazy out, the blue is looking kind of faded through all the humidity, the cicadas started early and the birds are out there doin' what they do, mostly looking for food and flying through the yard with an occasional stop at the water bowl.  It seems the repair of the bowl is holding.  The can just came for a drink, which doesn't seem to bother the birds at all after the cat has moved on to other things.

In looking at my home page, I saw that Ray Bradbury has died . . . He was 91 and I don't think he ever stopped writing.  I have read so many of his stories and novels, but not so many of his poem.  I wanted to send one today to remember him.  I had trouble finding any of his poems, and I know I have a book of his poetry but <sigh> still in storage evidently.  So, I found this one, published on several websites.  It recalls his book, Something Wicked This Way Comes and so I will use it, as a lot of his stories take a dark turn, but he seemed to so much believe in the good things of the world that good usually triumphs.  One of my favorite stories of his was one where a last deep water dinosaur fell in love with a lighthouse <smile>.
So today I will remember all the enjoyable, shivery moments of his work, the beauty of his writing, and know that even if something wicked does come my way, it's always possible for good to triumph!  My favorite book of his is Fahrenheit 451, as I believe books are worth saving.  Over the years the book I would be has changed and will probably keep changing, but I am sure that it is probably that way for all people who love books.

The Real Poem

Crystal water turns to dark
Where ere its presence leaves its mark
And boiling currents pound like drums
When something wicked this way comes...

A presence dark invades the fair
And gives the horses ample scare
Chaos rains and panic fills the air
When something wicked this way comes...

Ill winds mark its fearsome flight,
And autumn branches creak with fright.
The landscape turns to ashen crumbs,
When something wicked this way comes...

Flowers bloom as black as night
Removing color from your sight
Nightmarish vines block your way
Thorns reach out to catch their prey

And by the pricking of your thumbs
Realize that their poison numbs
From frightful blooms, rank odors seep
Bats & beasties fly & creep

'Cross this evil land, ill winds blow
Despite the darkness, mushrooms glow
All will rot & decompose
For something wicked this way grows...

Ray Bradbury

Thanks for giving us all such wonderful stories and books, you will be missed but the stories you told will live on in the hearts of all your readers . . .

If you had to be a book, to save it from extinction, what book would you be?