Fog - A Pantoum

Written on a misty morning on the farm.

The fog on the moor wraps me close in its arms,

It sinks into the cracks of oak and ash.

It rolls out like a carpet through the grey sky;

Leaves drip with water, as the fog sits, heavy.

It sinks into the cracks of oak and ash;

The world is silent in mysterious respect.

Leaves drip with water, as the fog sits, heavy.

Mountain ponies, splotched with grey, stomp the grass.

The world is silent in mysterious respect,

The smell of earth, and grass, and rain.

Mountain ponies, splotched with grey, stomp the grass.

A flute sounds out, hidden somewhere in the grey.

 

The fog on the moor wraps me close in its arms,

It rolls out like a carpet through the grey sky.

A flute sounds out, hidden somewhere in the grey.

The smell of earth, and grass, and rain.

How to write a pantoum

The Royal Road to Romance

       A few weeks ago, I finished reading The Royal Road to Romance, by Richard Halliburton. It is really a pity that most people have never even heard of Richard Halliburton, because he really was an amazing explorer and author! Halliburton was born to a well-off family who had high hopes of his education and future job, but Halliburton thought otherwise. After graduating college, he realized that what he really wanted was to "Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you. Be afraid of nothing. There is such a little time that your youth will last- such a little time." (Oscar Wilde) Halliburton, so tired of a boring an uneventful life, was ready to find his joy in exploration and adventure. In fact, the dedication to Halliburton's book reads:

To

Irvine Oty Hockday

John Henry Leh

Edward Lawrence Keyes

James Penfield Seiberling

Whose sanity, consistency and respectability as

Princeton roommates drove me to this book.

       So, Richard collected all his personal belongings and began to explore the world. For many years, Richard traveled the Americas, Europe, Asia, Africa, and everywhere in between! He wrote numerous books, including The Book of Marvels, The Glorious Adventure, The Flying Carpet, and The Royal Road to Romance. In the year of 1939, Richard set out on his final adventure. One clear morning, he attempted to sail a Chinese junk that he had crafted in China with a small crew. The junk took off, but it never came back. Halliburton died in a fierce sea storm, unprotected against the fury of the ocean. The story of his death (remarkably similar to Amelia Earhart's) is incredibly sad. America not only lost a great explorer when he died, but an amazing author, who has forever changed the world of geography. Halliburton writes with a touch that is not common in geography books. His books are full of life and pictures drawn with words. Even though they are educational, they are also immensely enjoyable. That, I  believe, is Richard's legacy: descriptive, beautiful books that are informative and interesting. His books are not only works of geography, but works of literature.

       I have written a creative, first-person summary of Richard Halliburton's The Royal Road to Romance as a small tribute to the amazing work that he has contributed to the world of literature and geography. You can access it here: file:///C:/Users/antca/Documents/School/Year%209%20School/Term%202/A%20First-Person%20Summary%20of%20Richard%20Halliburton%E2%80%99s%20The%20Royal%20Road%20to%20Romance,%20Chapters%207-37.pdf

As always, here are a few of my favorite quotes from The Royal Road to Romance:

“Let those who wish have their respectability- I wanted freedom, freedom to indulge in whatever caprice struck my fancy, freedom to search in the farthermost corners of the earth for the beautiful, the joyous, and the romantic."

"[On the Matterhorn] There is not a mountain left in all Switzerland that has not been scaled, so that the joy of being the first to stand upon some formidable peak which only the eagles knew before has passed forever. But there is almost as much joy in being the tenth or the hundredth. Familiarity can never breed contempt for such vast and beautiful peaks and valleys as these. The rivers bound over the rocks with just the same abandon now as a thousand years ago. The wine-like air from the snow and pines in not less exhilarating. The charm of the Alps will never die; for where else may one find nature as spectacular, yet as serene, as in these her favorite mountains?

It is charm below the snow line; it is fierce joy above, fierce joy to stand at dawn on the supremacy of some soaring crag and see the amber clearness of the jagged horizon grow in intensity, to scale such peaks as the Matterhorn, surrounded by a sea of mountains, with nothing to indicate that you are in the heart of civilized Europe rather than some Greenland waste. One finds a stimulation here unknown elsewhere- a feeling of having attained unto another, higher life, unto another world, a world made not of land and sea, but of crystal air, and sky, and snow, and space. It all sent a surge through our hearts."

The Longest Sentence Ever...

"And having for this desirable end already laid the foundation of peace and reconciliation, by the provisional articles, signed at Paris, on the 30th of Nov., 1782, by the commissioners empowered on each part, which articles were agreed to be inserted in and to constitute the treaty of peace proposed to be concluded between the Crown of Great Britain and the said United States, but which treaty was not to be concluded until terms of peace should be agreed upon between Great Britain and France, and His Britannic Majesty should be ready to conclude such treaty accordingly; and the treaty between Great Britain and France having since been concluded, His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America, in order to carry into full effect the provisional articles above mentioned, according to the tenor thereof, have constituted and appointed, that is to say, His Britannic Majesty on his part, David Hartley, esqr., member of the Parliament of Great Britain; and the said United States on their part, John Adams, esqr., late a commissioner of the United States of America at the Court of Versailles, late Delegate in Congress from the State of Massachusetts, and chief justice of the said State, and Minister Plenipotentiary of the said United States to their High Mightinesses the States General of the United Netherlands; Benjamin Franklin, esq’re, late Delegate in Congress from the State of Pennsylvania, president of the convention of the said State, and Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America at the Court of Versailles; John Jay, esq’re, late President of Congress, and Chief Justice of the State of New York, and Minister Plenipotentiary from the said United States at the Court of Madrid, to be the Plenipotentiaries for the concluding and signing the present definitive treaty; who, after having reciprocally communicated their respective full powers, have agreed upon and confirmed the following articles."

- From The Treaty with Great Britain 

Wow! I think they officially beat Charles Dickens for the longest sentence ever prize :)

You can read the rest of the Treaty here.

Another Poem: Chico

With the nice cool mornings that we have had recently, me and my sisters have been riding our horses before we start school. It has been quite convenient, as the afternoons are so hot, and we really enjoy getting a nice ride in before we start out day. A few months ago, we bought a sweet cream-colored horse named Chico ("little boy" in Spanish- he is very small for a horse!). Over the past couple of moths, I have really grown to love Chico! He is so sweet, and I love the way that he rides (he is very smooth, unlike Turbo, our other horse). Chico will let us ride normally, bareback, and double on him! Horses, like people, develop personalities of their own. They all are different, and it is even an old wive's tale that they develop the same personalities as their owner (or their name! We have a horse named Stormy, and believe me, he can get a pretty cloudy temperament some times :). Because all horses have different personalities, they appeal to different people. Chico and me definitely work well together!

Chico's biggest fault is probably that he is a little bit buddy sour. This means that he would rather be with his horse friends than be working all by himself. Sometimes, while I am riding him, he tries to run over to Stormy and Turbo and stand with them. However, buddy sourness is something that, with time, like all other things, can be cured in a horse. You just have to work it out of them like any other bad habit. In this way (and many others!) horses are a lot like people. I think that's why they are one of the most lovable and popular animals all over the world. 

This is a poem that I have written about Chico. Please enjoy! Any comments or suggestions are welcome :).

He puts his muzzle right upon my cheek

And softly rubs it with his gentle nose

I touch his mane so soft, and feel his coat

So sleek and smooth, almost as white as snow.

With gentle hands, I brush his coat and mane

And toss my saddle up upon his back.

When once the girth is tightened and the bit

Is in his mouth, we’re done with all our tack.

I put my foot into the curved stirrup,

And pull myself into the barrel saddle

And with a click and gentle kick of boots,

We’re off, to fight imaginary battles.

We fly through wood and dale with rapid speed

His hooves they barely touch the ground that yields,

Its grasses for to pad his hooved feet-

A glittering and pointed sword I wield.

The rider and the horse become just one,

And all that can be seen is a white streak

The bond of love it holds them both together,

And all that they can think about is speed.

We dash through darkened wood, dodging the trees

And winding with the path of dirt we twist

And run, so swiftly through the shade and fog:

Our path unaltered by the heavy mist.

When once we’re finished with our lengthy run,

We come to screeching halt, together stop.

I swing my leg around him and I step

Off, onto ground to praise him with a carrot.

I pat his side and whisper in his ear

How much I love him, and together walk

Up to the barn where we will sit quietly

Where for an hour without words we’ll talk.