Yongzheng Emperor. China. 1723-35

Yongzheng Emperor and Deer. China. 1723 – 1735


Want to point to the new poetry below by Aleksandar Novakovich and a return visit by Desi Di Nardo. Strong poets from the Balkans and Canada, respec­tively. Please com­ment on their works and let them know your impressions.
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Now, for that digres­sion. Albeit brief. I recently heard an inter­est­ing fact on the radio. Deer like the grass on the side of the road because it is more loaded with cer­tain kinds of nutri­ents they need. It’s loaded with that nutri­tion pri­mar­ily because we mow the grass along side our roads con­tin­u­ously. Deer are attracted to that grass, and can’t really judge the speed of cars on the high­way. Hence the acci­dents. In addi­tion, the months of October and November is their time to get ready for the Winter, to fat­ten up, to pre­pare. It’s also their time to mate. Deer are also most likely to be on the move at dawn or dusk. Always be care­ful, but espe­cially care­ful dur­ing those hours, and please allow for plenty of space between you and the car in front of you. For obvi­ous reasons.

Why do I bring this up? My jour­ney later today. My jour­ney back into the moun­tains on my way to the falls. I’m doing this mostly for the spirit, but also for the pho­tos. I want to cap­ture the leaves as they change and fall, cap­ture the water as it drops down the side of the cliff and into sub­se­quent pools, and find some new mean­ing in the rocks, the trees, the wind and sun. Testing myself against the cliff side, I want to hike up the steep incline, push onward and upward until I can see every­thing. I want to catch a fawn some­where between trees, catch it before it darts away, fear­ing the beast it sees. Snap a pic­ture before I snap a twig. Deer have always mys­ti­fied and intrigued me, ever since I first read Celtic myths and found that image of a mes­sen­ger from the other side. The other side. If you fol­low them long enough …

Deer were once some­thing else. They once were beau­ti­ful maid­ens, nymphs and princesses. But an age of dis­be­lief stopped their changeling ways. An age where the divine was removed from nature, from the earth, from flora and fauna alike. They can no longer go back. They can no longer take us with them to the other side, unless we throw off the shack­les of our dis­be­lief. Unless we see the divine in all things.

Will post the pic­tures soon.





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