Over the past week, Tuck and Sophia have been reading the news and noted with alarm Mitt Romney's speech yesterday. Then they read Austin Cushing's article on Gather this morning. Being Bible readers themselves, for the life of them, they couldn't understand Mitt's take on the "terror of the night". They especially like to read Psalm 91: 4-5:
"Under His Wings you will find refuge.....you will not fear the terror of the night"
As they make their last run through the forest just before dark they like to sing this song.
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Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
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Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
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Now the darkness gathers,
Stars begin to peep,
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Birds, and beasts and flowers
Soon will be asleep.
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Comments: 52
There is no terror in the night ... just fevered imagining that we walk alone.
looks like you caught a fairy in the first picture.
I tried the low light photography several weeks ago but really didn't know what I was going to do with the pictures...then Sophia read Austin's excellent article this morning and she was heaven-bent on responding.
More, more,....
And, yeah, I'm finding myself paying attention to politics lately, and I really don't like it. ::sigh:: "This, too, shall pass", though, right?
"Sabine Baring-Gould wrote the hymn.
1834-1924
Born: January 28, 1834, Exeter, England.
Died: January 2, 1924, Lew Trenchard, Devonshire, England.
Buried: In the churchyard across the road from his home at Lew Trenchard.
Baring-Gould had one of the most brilliant, eclectic minds of Victorian England. Born into the landed gentry, he attended schools in Germany and France, then went to Clare College at Cambridge. He learned six languages, entered the ministry at age 30, and pastored in Yorkshire, Essex, and Devonshire.
He also found time to write over 100 books, including 30 novels and a mammoth 16-volume Lives of the Saints. His works cover a huge range of topics: theology, folklore, social commentary, travel & history. One account of his life states, "At one point there were more books listed under his name in the British Museum Library than under that of any other English writer." But he was not just an author: He was an archaeologist, architect, artist, teacher and collector of English folk songs. His family estate at Lew Trenchard, near Dartmoor in Devonshire, is now a hotel."
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
Now the darkness gathers,
Stars begin to peep,
Birds, and beasts and flowers
Soon will be asleep.
Jesus, give the weary
Calm and sweet repose;
With Thy tenderest blessing
May mine eyelids close.
Grant to little children
Visions bright of Thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep, blue sea.
Comfort those who suffer,
Watching late in pain;
Those who plan some evil
From their sin restrain.
Through the long night watches
May Thine angels spread
Their white wings above me,
Watching round my bed.
When the morning wakens,
Then may I arise
Pure, and fresh, and sinless
In Thy holy eyes.
Glory to the Father,
Glory to the Son,
And to Thee, blest Spirit,
While all ages run.
I always love to read your words, and your photographs are so much fun,
I took the ride this morning , thanks to you..so in return Thank you Bob!
A voyageur comes,
Marinela is her name.
Thanks Curt and Victoria.
A big THANK YOU for my sister Elaine for taking over the moderator duties of BEST ORIGINAL PHOTOS, ART AND WRITING and I thank YOU for posting your original work to this group.
It never ceases to delight and amaze me how your feline and canine friends both accompany you on your jaunts.