Leucon, no one’s allowed to know his fate,
Not you, not me: don’t ask, don’t hunt for answers
In tea leaves or palms. Be patient with whatever comes.
This could be our last winter, it could be many
More, pounding the Tuscan Sea on these rocks:
Do what you must, be wise, cut your vines
And forget about hope. Time goes running, even
As we talk. Take the present, the future's no one's affair.
-
Horace's Ode I:11
Posted: Oct 08
Wow! How striking,
Tom
Tom – It is, isn’t it? It almost reconciles me to spiders. Almost . . .
What a wonderful world. It is all so miraculous.
Barbara – Well, yes, although there are some slimy bits, too. I saw a green heron cavorting in a pond in St. Augustine this week and got 1 or 2 almost sharp photos, but the pond he was in was scummy. It doesn’t make for nice photos.
Splendid composition! This web makes a fascinating subject because we have become so accustomed to the geometrical webs. I will watch for more of these.
Laurna – Thank you. I only saw this one because the sun was in the right position and it was at the right height for me. Sorta makes you wonder what we miss . . .