Friday, February 26, 2010

Whitefish Point, Lake Superior, Michigan

When you stand on the shores of Whitefish Point, it's not hard to see why there were so many hard fought shipwrecks here.
The water hits the sand with a thunderous roar that is almost deafening.
This is nature in its fury and it makes you see how small you really are compared to the strength of wind and wave.
This photo and description taken by Tina Renee.
Currently submitted into a Frommer's contest.
No part of this may be used without expressed, written permission.

Monday, February 22, 2010

"Beyond the Mountains" By: Mark Danner (Haiti)

Adapted from the book: The Magazine Article; How to think it, plan it, write it. By: Peter Jacobi, pg.113, 1991.        
The following excerpt was originally written by Mark Danner for The New Yorker.

Suddenly, through the rain lashing the jeep's windows, I became aware of dark shapes outside, moving silently along the road. looking more closely, I realized that I was sitting in the midst of a village; on either side of the road, scores of mud huts extended back into the trees. Now the rain had come, and-as would happen many times every year, hundreds of times in every lifetime-the villager's homes had instantly been flooded, and the entire village had been forced from sleep out into the rain. With each flash of lightening, I could see them all, hundreds of them, standing mutely on either side of the road, thigh-deep in water. On the radio, Bazin's low voice droned on, smoothly, gracefully, forming its perfect sentences, continuing a brilliant analysis of Haiti's political crisis. When it rains in Haiti, the people have no shelter.
This was written about Haiti more than 2 decades ago.

Why do we give?
Why do we care?
Why do we move like ants through dust and adversity?
Because it is our cause,
     our way,
     our purpose.
Who of you have never had need?
    and felt the deep warmth of a caring soul,
    the satisfying taste of love and  genuine concern.
The food of a piece of ourselves,
     creates more satiety than tangible morsels,
     a lasting presence in our hearts.

poem by: Tina Szybisty, 2/22/2010
(no part of this may be used without permission)