coldhighmountainwind

Bailey Island. Maine

Class B stars are extremely luminous and blue. Their spectra have neutral helium, which are most prominent at the B2 subclass, and moderate hydrogen lines. Ionized metal lines include Mg II and Si II. As O and B stars are so powerful, they only live for a very short time, and thus they do not stray far from the area in which they were formed.

Pleiades



Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Plei'ades,

or loose the bands of Ori'on?

Camden, Maine

The magpie is a most illustrious bird
dwells in a diamond tree
one brings sorrow and one brings joy
sorrow and joy for me

The magpie is a most royal bird
black and blue as night
i would that I had feathers three
black and blue and white

I saw the gentle magpie bird
in dusky yester-eve
one brought sorrow and one brought joy
and sooner than soon did leave

Genoa on the western coast of Italy lies at a latitude of 44.4 degrees north. It coincides with the latitude of Bethel Maine, where I live. I only note this in passing while researching a hiking trail in the Cinque Terre called the Sentiero Azzuro or Blue Trail. The Blue Trail is the lower trail that connects five seaside towns. The distance from Genoa to Monterosso, the first town on the trail, is less than 50 miles. I’ve always imagined Italy much further south than Maine. Tempered by the Mediterranean, it’s climate differs considerably from northern New England.

"The moon rode high in the blue eternity; it was a very triumph of glorious night; the river ran babble-murmuring in deep soft syllables; the fountain kept rushing moonward, and blossoming momently to a great silvery flower, whose petals were forever falling like snow, but with a continuous musical clash, into the bed of its exhaustion beneath; the wind woke, took a run among the trees, went to sleep, and woke again; the daisies slept on their feet at hers, but she did not know they slept; the roses might well seem awake, for their scent filled the air, but in truth they slept also, and the odor was that of their dreams; the oranges hung like gold lamps in the trees, and their silvery flowers were the souls of their yet unembodied children; the scent of the acacia blooms filled the air like the very odor of the moon herself."

George Macdonald
(The Romance of Photogen and Nycteris)
by George MacDonald
1882

hey jude !

It is a road and night to suit the mystery. We have been traveling velvet miles, mile upon mile unfurling, the feel of newly poured asphalt below, an endless whirring of engine, the occasional dip and rise of road beneath rubber tires. Ahead are the anonymous winking gems, which we follow, just disappearing around some shadowy curve filled with black shapes of trees. In the east floats a scalloped sheen of clouds, turning silver with moonrise among them. On our left, in the west, a crack of pale light splits the dark from end-to-end along the horizon. The sun has gone below the fringed fastness of Maine; seemingly all its Aroostook northwestland lying deserted and dark. Now comes a pointy-eared coyote loping along just beneath the berm of the roadway toward us, faintly golden in our highbeams. The animal disappears.

( We are hushed )

cross posted from cinda_cite

I dreamed I was walking down Copley Avenue at night in autumn. I came to Greenwood Avenue where my grandmother once lived. As I went to turn up to her street, I noticed to the left and downward what appeared to be a festive indoor equestrian arena. The lights were bright and the spectators were lively.

I turned onto Greenwood and proceeded to grandmother's which was only a half block. The lights diminished behind me and I noticed a light breeze blowing the autumn leaves whirling by my feet and down the street. The air seemed pleasant without the normal night chill.

As I neared her house, I noticed a form emanating from between grandma's house and a detached garage. The form proceeded towards me. I recognized the form as my shy and somewhat reclusive cousin. She approached me and we began a pleasant conversation.

The substance of this conversation eludes me today, but I remember the feeling of one detached from the normal reality of this world. As we continued walking north along the avenue, I looked at the front of my grandmother's house and saw in large gold leaf letters the words "Ellen of the Province".

Walking together for a time, I noticed a particular beauty in my cousin that I had never seen before. This beauty was physical as well as inward. We continued on, the leaves rustling about us while others began noticing the particular beauty of this woman. Some began following and at our parting, I to the right, my cousin to the left, I was left with a feeling of lightness, floating

on that breeze...