My previous return was short-lived, because last Monday I flew out to Virginia to go to Christendom. I've been very busy, and this is the first chance I've had to use a computer since last week. Until the new library opens in October, I have to walk all the way across campus to use the computers in the top of Regina Coeli. The ceiling is low and it's kinda dark in here... but I hope to establish a regular posting schedule, and when the new library opens I will have a shorter walk from Campion Hall. My next post will have nice pictures of the college - ones I took last summer, probably, but I might take some new ones.

That's all for now. I'm leaving for a dance at Dr. Cuddeback's farm in half an hour...


P.S. - I really like it here. ^_^

Once, it is said, on an isle in an age long past,
The sky was very dark at night and the stars shone clear,
And the people looked in holy awe at times
On the lights that turned the high court of the year,
And knew the signs. "It goes to Walsingham", they said,
Hushed, for overhead, chill miles across the sky
The white track, glorious of converging light,
As though showering trees lined a path on the height,
Ran over the road to the shrine of the Lady who does not die.

And in summer's farthest month they walked the road,
With songs to her, and candles in their hands,
And came at last to the shrine where more lights burned,
And remembered Her, called past where the North Star turned,
And this was done in many ways, and many lands...


Part of a poem I wrote four years ago... it was mostly 14-year-old angst, but I liked the bit about Our Lady. (It's weird, though: both of the poems I've posted so far have been inspired by a verse from Hopkins' Wreck of the Eurydice. I should do something about that.)

The Assumption in the photo (by Donatello, I think) is underneath the church of Santa Croce in Florence.


And here are two stanzas of the Dedication from GKC's Ballad of the White Horse. The second stanza especially made me think of the feast we celebrate today:


Ride through the silent earthquake lands,
Wide as a waste is wide,
Across these days like deserts, when
Pride and a little scratching pen
Have dried and split the hearts of men,
Heart of the heroes, ride.

Up through an empty house of stars,
Being what heart you are,
Up the inhuman steeps of space
As on a staircase go in grace,
Carrying the firelight on your face
Beyond the loneliest star.



Have a happy and blessed feast of the Assumption.

I took these pictures of the mission a few months ago...

Statue of St. Therese with bird-of-paradise and heliotrope.



The first courtyard. It's planted haphazardly with vegetable gardens.



The parish has made their own little garden along one wall.



Resurgam: I shall rise again.
The door to the inner courtyard.



The cool Moorish fountain in the courtyard.



Two little kids watching the fish.



More of the courtyard



Path near the chapel




Calla lily.
And a spray of bougainvillea that the wind blew against the pillar in front of me.



View from top of the stairs... another church beyond the mission.




Inside the chapel



The coolest reredos ever.
Every inch covered in gold leaf.
The kids touring the chapel were in love with it. "Is that REAL gold? Ooooooo..."



And a sign outside (blessed by Cardinal Mindszenty!):