Youth

The other day I noticed a catalogue on which a giant neon title had been printed: All Eyes on Youth. More and more often I come across catalogues, magazines, and ads projecting that coveted image of youth. Buyers flock to grocery and drug stores in order to purchase the latest product that will retain their youthful appearance. Now I'm not against youth in the slightest - some of the very best things in the world have been designed for youth, and my favorite memories were made in my earliest days of youth. In fact, I am a youth blogging about it. What could be more youthful? I do have a concern for those who chase after it, though, like an unfulfilled dream. While the Bible has some very encouraging things to say about youth, it seems that the focus is on wisdom and righteousness instead. In fact, Proverbs 16:31 says, "The silver-haired head is a crown of glory, if it is found in the way of righteousness." A crown of glory... that sounds like something worth pursuing. Notice that it didn't mention perfectly tinted hair or a smooth face deprived of wrinkles. Also, Job 12:12 notes, "Wisdom is with aged men, and with length of days, understanding." In our culture, wisdom is no longer revered. The aged who do possess it are snubbed and labelled "old-fashioned". Those who are reaching maturity frantically search any way to preserve their looks. In turn, not only are their looks preserved but their mindsets also. We are surrounded by a generation that lusts after its toys - carefree, irresponsible, lazy, oblivious. So long as everlasting fun is provided, Lampwick need never grow up. And then they wonder why they are so miserable, why they're always seeking but never finding. When the Bible does praise youth, it is for the faith and trust of a child. If we want to retain something from our youth, it should be the simple trust that came naturally as a child: the trust that relies on God, who is able to crown the lilies of the valley with greater beauty than man could ever create, for that jewel known as wisdom.

Eine Klasse Photo von der Maus

The perfect photo of my favorite mouse doing one of my favorite things. I need this in wall-poster size. 

Memory Lane

I wrote this poem last night during a rare flash of inspiration and a touch of sentimentalism. This is the third I've ever written and I've never taken a poetry class, so please forgive me, readers, if it's rubbish. I'd appreciate any thoughts or comments on it from those of you who enjoy poetry and/or know how to do it properly.

Memory Lane

Take the path of that less trodden,

Follow the road to days of yore-

Mark the lane which breathes of stillness,

Plunder the trove of memory's store.

Hark the days of yesteryear!

Note the scrawling ivy crawling,

Young were the days it calls to mind.

Reaching for folk who toiling built it,

On to bygone passers find.

Hear the raven croaking skyward,

Oh! That voice which rings of age.

First flight's feathers were his raiment 

When new dawn marked nature's page.

Creaking whispers gnarled oak,

Grasping breezes in his hands

Wonder as while never knowing

Tales he's kept of changing lands.

Lake of ripples wind caressing,

Silent slithers into stream.

While the silver fountains falling

Music drifting into dream.

Apple blossom passes scepter

Crown'd the Summer, then the Fall,

Fades each glow of Winter's glory

Year in year through Hist'ry's Hall.

Greet each dawn as stretching golden

To the yawning radiant eve,

Growing sapling reaches full-tree

Fleeting moments ne'er retrieve.

Hark the days of yesteryear!

Yea, hark the days of yesteryear. 

~

Things that make Life Swell

One of my best friends visited Maine this week and took some lovely photos. Two in particular I'm sharing with you, reader, because they made me think of those pleasures that make life swell. True, this post has no real importance and may not even be interesting for you to read. It's simply a rather childish list of things that I enjoy. Feel free to gloss over them and wait for another post of greater interest. I do hope that you take a moment to enjoy her photos, though.

That List of Swell Things:

~Visiting Maine (one of my four favorite states)

~Misty and chilly mornings either by a lake or in the woods

~Big, thick sweaters or fleeces that make you feel like a blissful kid because they're cozy

~Dogs that smile in the corners of their mouths and want to be petted (like mine)

~Walking into a grocery store that plays Classical music all day (I visited the first ever this week, and almost forgot to buy groceries, I was so busy sorting through Mozart, Bach, and Vivaldi).

~Hot Apple Cider (beats hot cocoa all hollow)

~Getting letters of any sort (particularly those with a stamp and an envelope)

~Taxiing down a runway and feeling that first little lurch at take-off

~Holding newborns (particularly siblings and cousins)

~Observing the first signs of spring, when all of the trees are blooming, the air is warm with a nip of winter lingering on, and everything is done up in pastels.

~Hiking through the mountains and smelling the pine-and-dust scent, stepping through a sun-speckled forest.

~Playing with children who still know how to pretend, and don't make fun of teddy bears (I have two: La Pine and Marshmallow Custard).

~Being with friends who will listen to anything you need to say, put up with your nutty antics, and remain loyal whether they're next door or across an ocean.

~Finding a new quote to add to my ever-expanding collection

~Listening to that unique quiet that only comes with falling snow; waking up to a blanket of snow that's left the world a magical silvery-white; skiing and throwing snowballs; coming in to thaw beside a fire

~Singing (but only when no one's listening, because I can't sing for toffee).

~Watching a gorgeous sunset anywhere in the world, with the consciousness that it's wonderful just being alive

Front Porch Learning

I spent some time down in the hills of southwest Virginia for two family reunions this past weekend. I hadn't visited for eleven years, so it was definitely a fulfilling experience matching all of the faces to the names I'd heard of since I was smaller than I am now. I'd spent hours pouring over mom's books on our family heritage, reading records, and staring at photographs of relatives wondering what they looked like now, what they were doing, or as is the case now - if they were still alive. Unfortunately, many of the people who made up the "backbone" of both reunions are either too old, or have already passed on since I last visited. The younger generation no longer cares as much to come, nor do they show interest in the family history. When the older members heard about one of my intended majors - history - they all replied with the same exclamation: "Wonderful! We haven't had a young person interested in history since Aunt Hetty." My thought of course, was to wonder how it was possible not have an interest in history. After all, we're descended from it, we're part of the making of it, and we'll pass it on to others in either a direct or indirect way.
On another note, I was able to see the stars at night again. I was able to hear crickets and all manner of night critters chattering away about their tales under the moon. I heard the gentle southern breezes whispering lullabies through the trees and smelled the sweet fresh air that still lingers deep in the woods of Virginia. I watched nature come alive before me and remembered a very important lesson: it's the little things - the memories - that count. Cherish your memories, reader. Don't let them tarnish in the recesses of your mind. Write them down, share them with others. Memories are the rare gems that make up history's trove, unique to each person. Remember them, or they may be forgotten - just like Haysi, Virginia - left only for the crickets and trees to whisper about.

Happy Birthday, Melville!

What better way to start the month of August than with a post honoring Herman Melville's birthday? As we all know, this author wrote the most important book you'll ever read (apart from the Bible), titled Moby Dick or The Whale. Had this famous author lived to be 194, it would have warmed the cockles of his heart no doubt, to see his faithful readers facing their obstacles like Ahab and engaging in heated debates as to whether or not his novel is actually about whales. Unfortunately, he only lived to be 72, but by then the printing press had been invented, so we can peruse his work in loving memory of his esteemed name. All this to say, grab the nearest copy of this book (if it is not already clasped in your eager hands) and read it cover to cover. Just don't write in the book - it's too special for that. Underlining is recommended. And if you can, hunt down Mr Jones and ask him to explain his thoughts on the novel. You won't be disappointed.

Happy Birthday, Melville!