The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #166522   Message #4016030
Posted By: Rapparee
29-Oct-19 - 12:52 PM
Thread Name: MOAB - Mother of All BS [annex]
Subject: RE: MOAB - Mother of All BS [annex]
It is currently 14F with a windchill of -9F. Snow covers the ground, an alabaster blanket. There are tracks in snow -- of crosscountry skiers, a lone snowshoer, coyotes, and the pack of wolves that lives on the golf course. I have called and called, hoping Gluon would answer and change this weather, but in vain.    As Johnny "Lunger" Keats wrote, "The owl for all his feather [is] a-cold." I am reminded, looking out the bay window, of Ralph W. Emerson's "The Snowstorm"

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of Storm.

Or, tho' 'tis but October (tho' near November) John "Leafy" Whittier's poem "Snowbound" (which I shan't bore you with beyond the first stanza as it seems to go on forever):

The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
Slow tracing down the thickening sky
Its mute and ominous prophecy,
A portent seeming less than threat,
It sank from sight before it set.
A chill no coat, however stout,
Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,
That checked, mid-vein, the circling race
Of life-blood in the sharpened face,
The coming of the snow-storm told.
The wind blew east; we heard the roar
Of Ocean on his wintry shore,
And felt the strong pulse throbbing there
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.

Come, brave Gluon! Hurry and take these four-letter words from hence!