By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
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Monday was very hot and fairly uneventful. There was lightning in the area but we got no storm here, so we took a long walk in the evening when it finally cooled off. There was a terrible gas explosion in Baltimore, so I watched the news for a while as I did various chores. As I post old photos, I keep finding things I need to look up, so today it was Newport geography and history.
We watched two episodes of Antiques Roadshow (I don't think I have any valuable treasures in this house) and some of the Nationals' big victory over the Mets (which was a relief to me after the Orioles games, though I'm worried about Doolittle). Here are some of the raptors at Meadowside Nature Center, though we couldn't get very close since the enclosures are closed because of coronavirus:
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