Ends of the Spectrum

Pixabay

“Pied Beauty

Glory be to God for dappled things –

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced — fold, fallow, and plough;

And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

Praise Him.”

• Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889), British poet

I view the CBS program “60 MINUTES” when I can. I usually learn something.

Fascinating segments included a small subset of people — men and women — who can, without much hesitation and without fail, tell you about every day of their lives.

What transpired on a given day, what they were wearing, what they ate, what the weather was like, what else of importance happened. What day of the week it was.

They come from different countries.