By Samuel Rogers
The sunbeams streak the azure skies,
And line with light the mountain's brow:
With hounds and horns the hunters rise,
And chase the roebuck through the snow.
From rock to rock, with giant bound,
High on their iron poles they pass;
Mute, lest the air, convulsed by sound,
Rend from above a frozen mass.
The goats wind slow their wonted way,
Up craggy steeps and ridges rude;
Marked by the wild wolf for his prey,
From desert cave or hanging wood.
And while the torrent thunders loud,
And as the echoing cliffs reply,
The huts peep o'er the morning-cloud,
Perched, like an eagle's nest, on high.
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Most of my day involved chores and work -- I'm behind on both, though the laundry, at least is finished except the kids' sheets and towels from when they were here last weekend. At lunchtime while we had sandwiches and I folded laundry, we caught up on Limitless, which was fantastic (the Bollywood sex metaphor number!) but otherwise it was an uneventful afternoon. Then we went to Tysons Corner because I had won a pair of passes to a preview screening of Eddie the Eagle and got food from Pita Pouch for dinner while waiting in line.
I am biased, both because I loved the actual Eddie the Eagle and because the movie stars Taron Egerton and Hugh Jackman, but I think it's fair to say I would probably have loved this movie anyway -- it's funny and relatable and compares ski jumping to having orgasms (Hugh explains how both are done). Apart from lots of artistic license, the only possible complaint is that it's predictable even if you don't know the particulars of Eddie's career...a true proponent of the philosophy that it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.
Some photos of the Chihuly Persian glass installation at the Delaware Art Museum:
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