Ron Moffat: June 2006 Archives

Ah Sun-flower


Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

William Blake

Deer are lousy parents


A short fawn update.

The two that were the first new-borns I saw this year have been appearing in the back yard regularly over the last two weeks. They appear healthy and are growing fast.

There was another new arrival that I had much greater doubts about. This new born, and I mean new born, I discovered snugged up next to my garage one morning last week, its hold on life appearing to be tenuous in the extreme. A couple of days before this discovery, there was an article in the paper telling people not to touch or try to assist young wild life in any way. Often the human touch will cause the mother to abandon the baby, which in turn dies. With great difficulty, I followed the advice, and left the tiny thing to its own devices. Before leaving, I searched all over our yard and the area surrounding the house and could find no sign of the mother or any other fawns. I thought sure I’d be faced with a dead fawn when I returned home.

Well, on my return, there was no sign of the fawn, nor any sign that it had been there in the first place. Then, on Saturday, I saw a little fawn in the back yard, I feel certain it was the same one, healthy and playful. Again, no mother in sight, but the fawn showed no sign of any ill health or other distress, so I am sure the mother was somewhere nearby.

Talking to the neighbors, it seems a mother dear will sometimes abandon her fawns for hours at a time, and the fawn will just sit in one spot and await her return. I guess that’s what happened this time.

Thinking about all this, I’m reminded that the Good Lord has a plan, even for new-born fawns, and it is never good to try to interfere. It’s a hard lesson to learn.

I Couldn't Resist

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These are the new arrivals in the neighborhood, obviously still hungry. They are in my back yard, not far from where I first spotted them on Thursday.

2006 New Arrivals (2).jpg

That Was the Week that Was


The week has certainly been one of ups and downs. The weather seemed to set the mood.

We’ve had an unusually warm spell in Colorado over the last month or so with hot, dry winds and temperatures in the high eighties and low nineties. Then, yesterday, a cold front came through with much cooler air and very much needed rain. I read that at the airport we had more rain within an hour or so yesterday than we had in the entire month of May. Now, a warming trend seems to be returning. We may have snow next week, who knows.

I attended a funeral on Thursday that seemed to come under especially tragic circumstances for the family. Yet, those who spoke could talk only of faith and hope and trust in God’s promises, and a realization that we are all subjects of God’s eternal love and faithfulness. Yes, there was a lot of pain and grief at the loss of a very much loved father and grand father, but I came away thankful for the reminder that death will never win the final battle.

Then, yesterday morning, in advance of the cold and rainy day, just after dawn, the first new fawns of the year appeared in my backyard. I try to mark this event each year because of the awe I feel at the new life. It seems a new crop of fawns is a special gift to show God’s loving, creative hand is always at work, sometimes with a sense of humor. The two fawns had probably been born just an hour or two before I first spotted them. Mom was still cleaning them up and they were a bit wobbly on the stilts God gave them for legs. They were hungry, but couldn’t seem to decide between getting something to eat and getting out to explore their new world. They were perfect, as the work of His hands should be.

Then, too, I’ve been able to get some work done on the mystery. I’ve come to accept this will not progress as fast as I would like. I need to learn to write, to notice details, to get things down on paper. I need to practice, to learn the writer’s craft. If this takes weeks, or years to do, then so be it. I’ll keep plugging away and console myself at any sign of progress.

Posting may not be very regular over the next few months, but, on the other hand, the blog seems a proper place for at least some forms of writing practice. I ask your patience and your prayers.

Just War


Father Dowd has an excellent post on the Iraq war. He does a very good job explaining the rationale as to why we might think the war fits the "Just War" criteria, one of the best explanations I've seen to date.

The Pains of Sleep


Another poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
It hath not been my use to pray
With moving lips or bended knees ;
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose,
In humble trust mine eye-lids close,
With reverential resignation,
No wish conceived, no thought exprest,
Only a sense of supplication ;
A sense o'er all my soul imprest
That I am weak, yet not unblest,
Since in me, round me, every where
Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.
But yester-night I prayed aloud
In anguish and in agony,
Up-starting from the fiendish crowd
Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me :
A lurid light, a trampling throng,
Sense of intolerable wrong,
And whom I scorned, those only strong !
Thirst of revenge, the powerless will
Still baffled, and yet burning still !
Desire with loathing strangely mixed
On wild or hateful objects fixed.
Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl !
And shame and terror over all !
Deeds to be hid which were not hid,
Which all confused I could not know
Whether I suffered, or I did :
For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe,
My own or others still the same
Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.

So two nights passed : the night's dismay
Saddened and stunned the coming day.
Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me
Distemper's worst calamity.
The third night, when my own loud scream
Had waked me from the fiendish dream,
O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
I wept as I had been a child ;
And having thus by tears subdued
My anguish to a milder mood,
Such punishments, I said, were due
To natures deepliest stained with sin,--
For aye entempesting anew
The unfathomable hell within,
The horror of their deeds to view,
To know and loathe, yet wish and do !
Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me ?
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed.

The Permanent Things


I have posted to my other blog: The Permanent Things. (The Permanent Things is the blog I will use for posts of a purely political nature or if I just feel a good rant coming on.)

USAFA Graduation


Just one shot of the Thunderbirds from the Air Force Academy graduation yesterday. Our office sits just on the northern boundary of Academy property and, in this shot, the formation is passing just over our campus area. Someone else here got this picture and it is pretty good, better than mine.


About this Archive

This page is a archive of recent entries written by Ron Moffat in June 2006.

Ron Moffat: May 2006 is the previous archive.

Ron Moffat: July 2006 is the next archive.

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