Wassail, traveler, and welcome to The Gable Grey -- a place of retreat, of renewal, and of resistance: a tree-shaded refuge in Dark Times. Now pass the threshold, and rest from journeys! For a cold wind is blowing; and here, if you wish, you may hear tidings of the world without...

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

And now, a word from Marcus

"The sun appears to pour itself down, and indeed its light pours in all directions, but the stream does not run out.  This pouring is linear extension:  that is why its beams are called rays, because they radiate in extended lines.  You can see what a ray is if you observe the sun's light entering a dark room through a narrow opening.  It extends in a straight line and impacts, so to speak, on any solid body in its path which blocks passage through the air on the other side:  it settles there and does not slip off or fall.
  "Something similar will be true of the flow and diffusion of the universal mind -- not an exhaustible stream but rather a constant radiation.  And there will be nothing forceful or violent in its impact on the obstacles it meets:  it will not fall off, but will settle there and illuminate what receives it.  Anything unreflective will deprive itself of that light."

--Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 

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Whiles carried o'er the iron road,
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.

-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"