two feet in.

Metaphor to Action: Amazing Sky #22

"Who will speak these days, / if not I, / if not you?"

For Christmas, some sky and a poem...

Whether it is a speaker, taut on a platform,
who battles a crowd with the hammers of his words,
whether it is the crash of lips on lips
after absence and wanting : we must close
the circuits of ideas, now generate,
that leap in the body's action or the mind's repose.

Over us is a striking on the walls of the sky,
here are the dynamos, steel-black, harboring flame,
here is the man night-walking who derives
tomorrow's manifestoes from this midnight's meeting ;
here we require the proof in solidarity,
iron on iron, body on body, and the large single beating.

And behind us in time are the men who second us
as we continue.  And near us is our love :
no forced contempt, no refusal in dogma, the close
of the circuit in a fierce dazzle of purity.
And over us is night a field of pansies unfolding,
charging with heat its softness in a symbol
to weld and prepare for action our minds' intensity.

The sky comes from Dubai, a gift from a reader who finally took me up on my endless requests for international sky.  I actually have a few more celestial photographic (and even video!) submissions tucked away, so there will be more to come.

The poems from my favorite poet, Muriel Rukeyser.  Her words:  "As we live our truths, we will communicate across all barriers, speaking for the sources of peace.  Peace that is not the lack of war, but is fierce and positive." 

Fierce and Positive Peace on Earth.

Amazing Sky #21

Lone Pine, California
Sunset over Mt. Whitney.

This is an amazing sky of distinction -- it is the first image sent to me by someone I don't know.  That's right, in spite of all of my cajoling and all of the sky pictures that I know are hidden away on hard drives the world over, this is the first official submission to the site.  Hurray!

Sure, a few people do visit Two Feet In to read my trenchant thoughts on global justice, education, or mama-hood, but the fact is that most come for the amazing sky.  Just going by my site statistics from the last 100 visitors (about the past 3 hours), I ought to have pictures showing up in my in-box from quite a few places:

Back when I first starting posting images of amazing sky, I wrote the following:  "When I was younger, things like sunsets and rainbows and spectacular clouds were explained to me as light refracting off of water particles in the sky, or as pollution, or some other scientifically rational explanation...  I know that it is much more than that."  It is clear that people the world over are seeking amazing sky.  So, c'mon India, Lebanon, Spain, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and especially "unknown country" -- send your sky here.

Amazing Sky #20: A Tanka

Today we walked
at convergence of water
sky hooked by land.
Glimmers streaming between all.
Watch carefully!  See life flow.

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Note:  Today I also realized the true delirium that must have set in when I announced that I'd write every day in November.  Temporary insanity I'm sure.  But since I like to at least try and follow through on my word, you're bound to get some bits of poetic inspiration/experimentation -- stuff I might normally keep hidden were it not for the imperative to post.  If nothing else, the one above should please the 200+ amazing sky seekers that visit Two Feet In during any given 24 hour period.

Note#2:  If you read Two Feet In via an RSS feed (like Bloglines), you won't be able to view the cinematic masterpiece that accompanies the above poem.  Gotta click through to the site for that.

Amazing Sky #17 - #19

I've been in need of some amazing sky, and Two Feet In is long overdue as well, so on Saturday I got myself up and out to the hills with the hopes of catching the perfect alchemy of fog and sunrise. 

First...

Then...

Finally...

Amazing Sky #16

Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your sad little life . . . For a long time you had found your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me:

"I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now."

"But we must wait," I said.

"Wait? For what?"

"For the sunset. We must wait until it is time."

At first you seemed to be very much surprised. And then you laughed to yourself. You said to me:

"I am always thinking that I am at home!"

Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is setting over France.

If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, right from noon. Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like . . .

"One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"

And a little later you added:

"You know--one loves the sunset, when one is so sad . . ."

"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"

But the little prince made no reply.

An Oakland Backyard Sky: Amazing Sky #15

Today's sky and accompanying words come to Two Feet In by way of esteemed comrade Evan. 

days, stumbling into new years
wet windows
holy clouds
we blink our blinks through heavy lids
gums dancing with sugar
and watch kodachrome sun rays
slash again asphalt shingle
days, shower droplets over shoulders
like salt
like storms behind curtain number two
but no one is shouting "Come on down!"
except our bloodstream
to our brain
days, listing house-projects like groceries,
season by season,
half peeled paint by sticking front door
by crappy stove
,
learning, finally,
that more than two projects
equals zero

--evan nichols, oakland, ca

Amazing sky doesn't just live in Oakland, and I'm always on the lookout for more.  So, please send me yours.  Poetry, reflections, stories, dreams, or stream of consciousness musings not necessary -- but always appreciated.

Amazing Sky #14

My days continue to be bounteous, generative, and teeming with fullness, but not at all busy.  So, today I'm posting another offering from my endless collection of sky, as well as a correction/update from previous sky.  I'll get back to the rest of the world as soon as I can.

Several days ago I tried to link to a poem by Zia Hyder from Bangladesh.  The link didn't work, so here's an excerpt from her poem Under This Sky, which you can read in an anthology of poems put together by Naomi Shihab Nye:

There's an enormous comfort knowing
we all live under this same sky,
whether in New York or Dhaka,
we see the same sun and same moon

When it is night in New York,
the sun shines in Dhaka,
but that doesn't matter
Flowers that blossom here in spring
are unknown in the meadows of distant Bengal --
that too doesn't matter
There's no rainy season here --
the peasant in Bengal welcomes the new crop
with homemade sweets
while here, winter brings mountains of snow

No one here knows Grandmother's hand-sewn quilts
even that doesn't matter
There's an enormous comfort knowing
we all live under this same sky...

Yes, there is enormous comfort knowing we all live under this same sky, but also enormous responsibility.  Act on it wisely.

 

This Same Sky: Amazing Sky #13

Awhile back I heard the poet Naomi Shihab Nye speak, and she talked about how the word “busy” does not serve us as human beings.  She urged everyone to drop it from their vocabulary, because it doesn’t make us feel any better about our lives.  She instead advocates for saying things like “My day is very rich…” or “My day is very full…”

In that spirit, I will send you elsewhere if you are looking for more substantive blogging today, as my life at the moment is overflowingly full (try any of the excellent links further on down the sidebar). 

However, I can happily report that the richness of my very full day did provide the opportunity to give some attention to another recently neglected Two Feet In category -- amazing sky.  Because, truthfully, a day becomes rich or full when one is able to take at least a moment to ponder what it means that we all live under this same sky.  Without that moment, you are just plain busy.

Fallen Down Moon: Amazing Sky #12

What, an amazing sky posting with no picture?  For now, just some information via NASA about important moon developments this week:

Step outside any evening at sunset and look around. You'll see a giant moon rising in the east. It looks like Earth's moon, round and cratered; the Man in the Moon is in his usual place. But something's wrong. This full moon is strangely inflated. It's huge. You've just experienced the moon illusion.

This week's full moon hangs lower in the sky than any full moon since June 1987, so the moon illusion is going to be extra strong.

What makes the moon so low? It's summer. The sun and the full Moon are on opposite sides of the sky. During summer the sun is high, which means the full moon must be low. This week's full moon occurs on June 22nd, barely a day after the summer solstice on June 21st -- perfect timing for the moon illusion.

So, on the 22nd, I shall seek the fallen down moon (lowest hanging full moon in 18 years) and post an image here.  Or, you can take your own and send it to me. 

Amazing Sky #11

Regular blogging to return sometime soon, I hope. 

In the mean time, I'll leave you with some amazing sky to ponder.
This is what you get when you turn your back on the sunset:

How Do You Define Ordinary?: Amazing Sky #10

For the past several days, it has been raining here in the bay area.  This is most likely the last precipitation we’ll see until around October, so I’ve endeavored to be one with the rain while I can -- trying to commit to memory the smell of earth and ocean that the rain brings, so that maybe I’ll miss it a little less this year.  I have to admit that even after more than fifteen years in California, I’ve never been able to get used to the dry season.  Soon, I will literally be aching for a good summer thunderstorm. 

In the mean time, the rain makes for some nice sky-related action.  This blog continues to get an astounding number of international visits from people who have done searches for images of amazing sky.  Today’s picture may disappoint, as it has been proclaimed “just an ordinary sunset” by my daughter, Rosie.

Awhile back, Rosie, who is often on sky patrol as we eat dinner, asked me about a particular sunset that she saw out the window.  I dismissed that evening’s offering with the statement that it was “ordinary,” and not quite worthy of getting up to go and get the camera.  Immediately after saying it, I knew -- Big Mistake.  Now, no matter how hard I try to explain that there is no such thing as an “ordinary” sunset -- that each and every one is special -- she remains unconvinced.  At the age of three she’s become a sunset snob.  And, today's is ordinary.

So, since we’ve got nothing but ordinary sky here in Berkeley, and since the world is getting tired of looking out my kitchen window, someone else should send me some really amazing sky.  If you own a digital camera, then you’ve probably got sky hidden somewhere on your computer.  Send it here.  Please.  And, if it involves rain, I'll be all the happier.

2 Out of 3 Web Surfers Prefer: Amazing Sky #9

A few days ago I posted about the large number of feet sex visitors that this site receives.  Well, those folks have now been far, far, surpassed in number by amazing sky visitors.  It seems that two feet in has soared to the top of the Google Image search rankings for "amazing sky". 

My site statistics tell me that in the past 48 hours or so I have had amazing sky visits from nearly every state in our country, as well as the following international visitors: 

Venezuela, Pakistan, Canada, England, Sweden, Greece, Spain, Chile, Russian Federation, Netherlands, Jerusalem, India, Australia, Scotland, Iran, Mexico, Thailand, Israel, Denmark, Slovenia, Belgium, Germany, Hungary, South Africa, Malaysia, United Arab Emirates, Italy, Egypt, Brazil, Finland, France, Kuwait, Czech Republic, Switzerland, Japan, Argentina, Guatemala, and Korea. 

Many of these countries have sent more than one tourist to see amazing sky, with Brazil, Chile, and France leading in the numbers count.

That's a lot of people looking for amazing sky.  And to think that I was once kind of embarrassed about putting these images on my blog. 

Two pictures are particularly popular:  this one, which was submitted by faithful reader and friend Evan; and this one, which I took on a walk in the hills near my house.  Very different kinds of sky.

Today's picture is something new entirely:  a glimpse of rainbow out my kitchen window.

You too can make your own sky internationally known by sending it to me here. 

It's not Friday Cat Blogging -- It's Amazing Sky #8

               

Being a rather marginal member of the blogging world, I was kind of slow on the uptake when it came to the Friday Cat Blogging phenomenon.  I'd see cats around on Fridays, but never quite kept track of where I saw them, and somehow ended up thinking all those feline creatures belonged to the same person.  Then, one day, I stumbled across two cat blog postings and a Friday pudu blog in rapid succession, and everything clicked.   

Then, a more complete explanation was only a short Google away:

In the vitriolic world of political Web logs, two polar extremes are Eschaton (atrios.blogspot.com), a liberal, often anti-Bush site with a passionate following, and Instapundit (www.instapundit.com), where an equally fervent readership goes for hearty praise of the Administration.

It would seem unlikely that the two blogs' authors could see eye-to-eye about anything. Yet Eschaton's Duncan Black (known as Atrios) and Instapundit's Glenn Reynolds have both taken part in a growing practice: turning over a blog on Friday to cat photographs.

"It brings people together," said Kevin Drum, who began the cat spotlight last year on his own blog, Calpundit (www.calpundit.com). "Both Atrios and Instapundit have done Friday catblogging. It goes to show you can agree on at least a few things."

My own cats don't put up with having their picture taken, so it is unlikely that you'll find me jumping on the cat blogging bandwagon.  But, I realized, amazing sky kind of serves the same purpose. 

I've been posting amazing sky for awhile now, so I figure I'll just move these to Friday, and Voila!  Friday Amazing Sky Blogging!  Now, it may be true that many of my friends, as well as several strangers, are rolling their eyes and speaking in hushed, somewhat embarrassed-to-be-associated-with-me tones about the high level of cheesiness associated with posting pictures of sky on my blog.  And to this I say so-be-it, but I'll betcha you smiled -- even just a bit -- at the above image, taken from my kitchen window a few weeks ago.  My 3 year old daughter now knows to yell "Mama get the camara!" whenever she thinks there's good sky to be documented, and this was one of those instances.

On that note, I also post an occasional amazing tree and amazing teacher.  You can read why here, and then send me some of your own sky and a story (like this person did), since my own sky-pictures-on-reserve supply is dwindling. 

amazing sky #7

Some kitchen window amazing sky for your Sunday.

amazing sky: Christmas edition

My Christmas offering to the world...

"...see to it that you remain a Mensch!  Being a Mensch means happily throwing one's life 'on fate's great scale' if necessary, but, at the same time, enjoying every bright day and every beautiful cloud."
--Rosa Luxemburg

amazing sky #4

"The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely, aware."  -- Henry Miller

No energy today to type the story that goes along with this Sunday's edition of amazing sky.

Suffice it to say that the view is from my back porch, last Thursday.  It was one of those moments when your five senses merge to join together heart and hand and brain.  A bodily wake-up call to remind you that you're alive -- and that at least for that moment on that one small spot of the earth that you occupy, all is as it should be.

amazing sky #3

 It is Sunday, or will be when I finish writing this, and time for another amazing sky posting. 

This sky might actually seem quite un-amazing, especially compared to this, or this.  Amazingness, however, does not always lie in a spectacular show of color or light.  Sometimes it is more subtle than that.

A few weeks back I was headed up the hill on the walk that all ten of my faithful blog readers know so well by now, with the rain following me the entire way.  Literally.  The rain was following me.  A few drops would tap me on the shoulder, and I'd speed up to get away from them.  The street behind me was darkening with moisture, the street ahead dry.  After awhile it turned into a game to see just how long I could stay two steps ahead of getting wet. 

I took this picture when it became clear that I had beaten the rain.  The clouds recognized defeat and retreated to bother a different human out on a different walk.  I climbed up on the rocks, did a little victory dance, and headed down the hill for home.

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Consider the gift of amazing sky this holiday season!  See details here.

amazing sky #2

 This cloud is in the Swiss Alps.  It was the last day of our European adventure, six weeks through Italy, Germany and Switzerland with our one and a half year old, Maya.  Hours before, we had sat upon the alpine peet moss, popping wild blueberries from trailside and listening to a bovine jam session on the cowbells somewhere over the next ridge.

In the valley below us, a boy with a questionable haircut was tending to fresh cheese in a stone hut.  Every valley makes its own special cheese. Every valley has its own boy with a questionable haircut.  Every day he turns his cheese wheels over.

Suddenly a red and white helicopter chopped through our solitude and ripped its way up and over the next ridge.  Three blueberries later, it reappeared dangling a long tether with a blot on the end.  What was that?

It was a cow.

The helicopter and cow flew right by us.  The cow was caught mid-cud, too shocked to moo.  He seemed to be thinking, 'Now this ain't right.'  In a moment they had disappeared down the valley, over the next ridge, and down the long tramway ride into the little village far below.

We laughed and took this as our grand finale.  We had sweated our way under the Sistine Chapel, watched movies at midnight in the main piazza of Bologna, and sipped beer while our daughter played in the brilliant playgrounds inside the German beergardens.  Now we had our flying cow.

As we turned to say goodbye to the Alps and Europe, the sun struck a huge cloud from behind and gave it a holy presence.  We stared at as long as we could but soon had to go catch the last tram down to the village.  It was time to go home.

Evan Nichols

on trees, sky, and teachers

The other day a friend of mine told me that this blog reminds her of a quilt -- a bit of this and that which come together to create a unified whole.  Since I make quilts, and like to over-use the life-as-quilt metaphor, I took this as a compliment. 

Quilt-making can be either a solitary or collective act... so here is your chance to contribute.

I know that many of you out there in my vast and faithful blog audience have pictures of amazing trees or sky tucked away in some corner of your hard drive.  Now is your chance to dig them out and send them to me here.  You can submit them with or without accompanying story, poem, description, or stream of consciousness musings.  If you just want to send an image, I'll provide the text. 

You may or may not have a photograph of an amazing teacher hidden away, but you probably have one in your life.  Think broadly in your definition of teacher, find that person, take a picture and send me a short profile.

Why trees, sky, and teachers?  These can all be sources of inspiration, awe, hope, peace -- things that we all need a dose of on a regular basis. 

Today: Sunday amazing sky from our first guest contributor, Evan Nichols.

amazing sky #1

When I was younger, things like sunsets and rainbows and spectacular clouds were explained to me as light refracting off of water particles in the sky, or as pollution, or some other scientifically rational explanation.

I know that it is much more than that. 

Here's some amazing sky, and a poem, for your Sunday.

Oda a la Luz Encantada
Pablo Neruda

La luz bajo los árboles,
la luz del alto cielo
La luz
verde
enramada
que fulgura
en la hoja
y cae como fresca
arena blanca.

Una cigarra eleva
su son de aserradero
sobre la transparencia.

Es una copa llena
de agua
el mundo.

Ode to the Enchanted Light

The light beneath trees,
the light of the tall sky,
the branched
green
light
is burning
in the leaf,
falling like fresh
white sand.

A cicada hums like a saw
soaring over
the transparent shine.

The world is a cup
brimming
with water.