Extraterrestrial

Layers

 

Virginia Capital Trail

Tower Window

 

North tower window of Bruton Parish Church in Colonial Williamsburg.

Linking again today with Skywatch Friday.

Gold

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

— Robert Frost

 

Concert

 

Sophie (violinist) and Ryan (cellist) Lowe moments before they helped accompany a performance by the Williamsburg Women's Chorus this past Sunday afternoon. Sophie, who is originally from North Dakota, studied at the Royal Academy of Music and the Trinity Laban Conservatoire in London. Ryan recently relocated to the U. S. from London where he graduated from the Trinity Conservatoire. He also was selected from among his international peers to "perform for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in a performance that would later feature on ITV television in the United Kingdom."

Kiln Kingdom

 

There's a new shop in town. I actually posted the photo above several weeks ago when the shop opened. The sign shown below, however, was just installed. The proprietor told me that the glass and ceramics in his shop are made by members of his family back home in Turkey and shipped here. In addition to these, he offers a variety of Turkish treats and coffee.

The Wind and the Leaves

 

"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day.

"Come o'er the meadows with me, and play'

Put on your dress of red and gold,—

Summer is gone, and the days grow cold."

Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call,

Down they came fluttering, one and all;

Over the brown fields they danced and flew,

Singing the soft little songs they knew.

"Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long;

Little brook, sing us your farewell song,—

Say you are sorry to see us go;

Ah! you will miss us, right well we know."

"Dear little lambs, in your fleecy fold,

Mother will keep you from harm and cold;

Fondly we've watched you in vale and glade;

Say, will you dream of our loving shade?"

Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went;

Winter had called them, and they were content.

Soon fast asleep in their earthy beds,

The snow laid a coverlet over their heads.

-- George Cooper