Night on the Mountain
By George Sterling
The fog has risen from the sea and crowned
The dark, untrodden summits of the coast,
Where roams a voice, in canyons uttermost,
From midnight waters vibrant and profound.
High on each granite altar dies the sound,
Deep as the trampling of an armored host,
Lone as the lamentation of a ghost,
Sad as the diapason of the drowned.
The mountain seems no more a soulless thing,
But rather as a shape of ancient fear,
In darkness and the winds of Chaos born
Amid the lordless heavens’ thundering–
A Presence crouched, enormous and austere,
Before whose feet the mighty waters mourn.
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Watching Shaun White struggle late night after taking a break from the Olympics to watch Torn on Disney+, the documentary by Alex Lowe's son Max about his father's death in an avalanche and his mother's remarriage to his father's best friend, climber Conrad Anker. I knew all these names from my days reading people like Messner and Krakauer, but I didn't think I had an emotional investment in this story and was so impressed by how moving the film is -- reminded me of Ridgeway's Below Another Sky, in which the teenage daughter of the author's best friend asks him to take her to the spot where her father died after a similar avalanche.
My day otherwise involved Oscar nominations -- meh, happy about Kristen Stewart and Denzel Washington, rooting for West Side Story in most categories without even having seen it, but I didn't think The Power of the Dog was all that great apart from the performances, and I'm nauseous that Don't Look Up got major nominations -- and enjoying the beautiful weather, which was much warmer than last week, bringing out many pesky squirrels on bird feeders. My Voyager group watched the much-despised "Unity" and enjoyed each other's company, at least! Some of the animals and scenery we saw around icy Carderock last weekend:
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