Evening comes long hours late
And the still unmoving air
Cools the fevered hands of Fate.
Meadows where the afternoon
Hangs suspended in a flower
And the moments of our doom
Drift upon a weightless hour.
And we who thought that surely night
Would bring us triumph or defeat
Only find the stars are white
Clover at our naked feet.
With absolutely no attempt at hyperbole at all, it is fair to say that this is one of–if not the–biggest achievement of the human race. For, as we speak, an object conceived in the human mind, and built by our tools, and launched from our planet, is sailing out of the further depths of our solar system–and will be the first object made by man to sail out into interstellar space.”
And as we watch the field baking in the heat-–as we feel the sun’s power to burn as well as to bless–we can feel our own gifts, our own special abilities as they ripen and swell, and know that we, too, have the power to make a difference for growth or for destruction in the world.
It is a time to mark peak moments, moments of warmth and growth […], (it) is a time to invite fire into our lives-–fire to burn away all that we have outgrown and all that no longer serves us; fire that makes the wild things grow in us, for which our inner selves have longed.
Cait Johnson and Maura D. Shaw from Celebrating the Great Mother
Never mind the fact that I made a long skirt circa 2004 (inspired by this one from Kill Bill 2), wore it about three times, and then felt really self-conscious–look how “effortlessly glamorous” the fashion world tells us the long dress is: