I uploaded this and posted it without the formatting and pictures of the original which I cannot re-create right now. But I found this issue so extraordinary upon coming upon it myself I uploaded the text and references for anyone who might be as awed by it as I am. CKB 7/14/2026
Ballantyne’s Inspired Musings #48
October 2007
Vox clamantis in deserto
The voice of one crying in the wilderness
Carlos Ballantyne BIM 48
An oracle for the wise
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The author, practicing philosopher,
needles in Mammoth Lakes, CA. Thecomes from a very tentative pitch for asit-com of the doings at Camp High Sierra where I am now semi-hemi-demi employed.
Actually it not all bad news and drudgery – the weather is perfect every day, my sometimes dysfunctional co-workers are entertaining, and I am practicing over and over again a not-natural faculty of keeping my mouth shut. Mammoth Lakes begins at 8000’ altitude and goes up to 11,500’ and has 11 lakes within the city limits. This is Lake George which is at about 9500’. This is just a little cell phone shot.
There was a clever bear living around Lake George this summer. He would wait until fisherpersons would come in from fishing in their boats, feint charge them causing them to drop their stringers of trout, and the bear would then run off with ALL the catch. CA Fish & Game counted up this bear’s total ‘bad acting’ points and went up to the lake one afternoon and shot the bear.
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6/23/07 about 13:00 Self portrait at Lake Tenaya, upper Yosemite, 8500’ elevation. Sometime in July – I was forced to append “or the shower” to the hand written sign in the ladies room of the shower house that read “PLEASE do not throw tampons or Kotex in the toilet”.
In the Travertine hot springs, Bridgeport, CA on an August afternoon.
Hey man – I don’t see no crack-up boom
“This first stage of the inflationary process may last for many years. While it lasts, the prices of many goods and services are not yet adjusted to the altered money relation. There are still people in the country who have not yet become aware of the fact that they are confronted with a price revolution which will finally result in a considerable rise of all prices, although the extent of this rise will not be the same in the various commodities and services. These people still believe
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that prices one day will drop. Waiting for this day, they restrict their purchases and concomitantly increase their cash holdings. As long as such ideas are still held by public opinion, it is not yet too late for the government to abandon its inflationary policy.”
“But then finally the masses wake up. They become suddenly aware of the fact that inflation is a deliberate policy and will go on endlessly. A breakdown occurs. The crack-up boom appears. Everybody is anxious to swap his money against "real" goods, no matter whether he needs them or not, no matter how much money he has to pay for them. Within a very short time, within a few weeks or even days, the things which were used as money are no longer used as media of exchange. They become scrap paper. Nobody wants to give away anything against them.”
“It was this that happened with the Continental currency in America in 1781, with the French mandats territoriaux in 1796, and with the German mark in 1923. It will happen again whenever the same conditions appear. If a thing has to be used as a medium of exchange, public opinion must not believe that the quantity of this thing will increase beyond all bounds. Inflation is a policy that cannot last.” from http://www.safehaven.com/article-7806.htm , from von Mises’s writings, The Austrian school of economics
“One of our clients grew up on a farm in Germany. Years ago he told us about what happened in 1921. His parents had a large mortgage on the farm. One day, at the peak of the hyperinflation, they took ten dozen eggs to market and sold them. With the proceeds they went to the bank and paid off the mortgage.”
From http://www.investmentrarities.com/ , BEST OF JIM COOK, May 24, 2005, GOLD REDUX [or – Hey, this is like déjà vu all over again]
John Maynard Keynes knew the problem well: “the difficulty lies not so much in developing new ideas as in escaping from old ones”. But as John Kenneth Galbraith observed: “faced with the choice between changing one’s mind and proving there is no need to do so, almost everyone gets busy on the proof.” Satyajit Das, Credit Crunch – The New Diet Snack for Financial Markets, September 5, 2007, http://www.prudentbear.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=4748&Itemid=58
“The separation of the power of raising armies from the power of commanding them is intended to prevent the raising of armies for the sake of commanding them.” James Madison, as quoted at length in TruthDig about our own malfeasant, draft-dodging, Imperial President. Carlos Ballantyne BIM 48 ckb7_2000@yahoo.com page 4
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“At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? -- Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant, to step the Ocean, and crush us at a blow? Never!--All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest; with a Bonaparte for a commander, could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years.
At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.” A. Lincoln, Address Before the Young Men's Lyceum,of Springfield, Illinois (January 27, 1838), p. 109., http://home.att.net/~rjnorton/Lincoln78.html
Somehow, I got to this Lincoln quote from a reference in Diplomacy Lessons – Realism for an Unloved Superpower, John Kiesling, Potomac Books, 2006. Kiesling‘s eloquent resignation from the Dept. of State in March 2003 made the NY Times and is still quoted for its language.
“They are not particularly healthy, but they have the splendid gutter hardiness of English sparrows.” about gypsy children living in Brooklyn, Jos. Mitchell, Up in the Old Hotel, in the story ‘King of the Gypsies’, pg 149, Vintage Press 1993
“If you were breathing your last, if you had the rattle in your throat, and the wind blew you a faint suggestion of the smell of it, you’d rise up and walk.” About a Mohawk Indian corn meal, bean, and bear’s head stew, as made by the high steel construction Mohawks of Brooklyn, now using pig’s heads. Mitchell, pg 288
“About a dozen are beery and wildly imaginative mythomaniacs….” about the residents of the Hartford Hotel in the old city of New York near Peck Slip where steamships from Boston and Hartford used to dock. Mitchell, pg 381
It was my good fortune to catch a whiff of this era on Block Island, a strange smallish island off the coast of Rhode Island where my parents took vacations in their declining years – their early 50’s as they attempted to escape from Wayne’s alcoholism. I drank for a few evening in the bar of a huge old all wooden hotel. The doors were 11’ high; the place was from the 1880’s when packets, early steamships and even sailing ships took weekend travelers back and forth to New York and other places. A month after I left the hotel burned totally with the flames visible 50 miles off-shore.
Before the ‘authorities’ - The Port of New York and New Jersey Port Authority - commandeered the land on which the World Trade Center was built I used to meander around lower Manhattan which still retained substantial vestiges of New York’s sailing days past. There were still several shops filled with up to
hundred year old used merchandise like compasses and binnacles and sailing pants with net pockets, slickers, rubber fisherman’s boots.
I have always had the feeling that the WTC is on an afflicted location – perhaps built on an Indian burial ground or the site of an Indian massacre, in addition to carrying the bad energy of the property condemnations to accumulate the parcel for the WTC. Wall Street got it name as the early Colonists constructed a wall across Manhattan there to keep the Indians out. Presumably these were Indians dissatisfied with the earlier $24 purchase price for the island.
One of my Dartmouth classmates, after retiring from a full partnership at Goldman Sachs, became the Chairman of the Port Authority and unfortunately was not at his top floor offices on 9/11/01. I recently wrote to this big-time John McCain financial supporter suggesting McCain was too old for public office and had mental infirmities. I included a Dick Cheney quote from a New Jersey campaign trip – “We wouldn’t be where we are now if it weren’t for the support of Lew XXX.” LOL
And then there’s the Gold Star story from an older BIM from when I bounced around good ole NY.
‘Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.’
Back in the days when I rode the Gold Star from the Westchester suburbs to Greenwich Village so I could drink until 4 AM, I once spied out this graffiti written on the wall above the urinal, standing out from the usual ‘slave wants master' stuff, in a mostly gay bar I was hanging out in one night on Bleecker St. – back when Bleecker Street was Bleecker Street.
The Gold Star
I was always real partial to Gold Stars, the special 500 cc single cylinder motorcycles made by BSA of England and I once owned 3 of them at one time. The best of them was the black 1963 Clubman I bought from a friend in 1965. It would do an honest 120 miles per hour and I got it up there several times while drunk out of my mind in the middle of the night. Always a solitary drinker, I took to leaving the bars in the New York City suburbs of Westchester County an hour before they closed at 3 AM and riding the Gold Star down to Greenwich Village where the bars didn’t close until 4 AM. My record was 42 minutes for the 45 mile trip from Foley’s Bar and Grille in Chappaqua, the upper middle class commuter town I lived in, to the no-name tavern at the corner of Hudson and Jane streets in the West Village. I set a personal record on one of these trips by going 105 miles an hour past the UN garage on the East Side drive. Almost fifteen years later and sober for some years I tried to duplicate this feat with my last motorcycle, a highly tuned Suzuki that had been a drag racer and vaguely set up
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for the street. The most I dared push the ungodly fast Suzuki to on the potholed and dark tunneled road past the UN was about 85. I had become a woos in my later years - a chicken shit.
I loved the no-name because they served Ballantine Ale on tap and I was a Ballantine Ale man for all of my formative drinking years. It was the best. I especially liked those big green glass quart bottles. There was a nickel deposit on these bottles and once a week or so when I would clean them out of the back of the ‘Bum-mobile’, my ‘50 Chevy coupé. I would then have enough deposit money for a couple more quarts which would be the start of my next toot. I knew no one at the no-name and simply reveled in the ale and the excitement of the ride down and the adventures of the night.
Closing up the no-name around 4 or so I would head down to the tip of Manhattan and ride the Staten Island ferry for 5 cents across lower New York harbor and back and then go get something to eat at Katz’s Delicatessen on Houston St. or go over to Chinatown and have some wor sew op, duck, or some such. Then I would head down to Wall Street, deserted on Saturday and Sunday mornings at 6 or 7, and run up and down the streets listening to the crescendo of the full racing exhaust of the Gold Star bouncing off the buildings.
Prospero Ends the Revels
Our revels now are ended, these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits
And are melted into air, thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
as dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
Shakespeare
And so, at last, around 7 or 8, exhausted, shall we say, from a night of carousing that had begun at least 12 hours before, I would head the Gold Star homeward up the West Side highway, back across 10 cent bridge, through the Bronx, and then up the Saw Mill River Parkway to upper middle class suburbia. And the next night I might cool it a little, staying around home and simply closing the bars at home at 3 then heading to one of the local diners to eat – 3 scrambled eggs, hash browns, English muffins, coffee, pineapple pie.
I had the Gold Star up at Dartmouth for a while and made one fantastic trip on it from Hanover, New Hampshire to ‘home’ - the Central Bar and Grille (Ladies Invited), about 250 miles, in 3 ½ hours. I cruised upper Route 22 in New York State for mile after mile at well over 100 mph on a memorable bright sunny June afternoon slowing slightly going through the little towns like Copake Falls and Millerton, reaching back and covering the full racing exhaust megaphone with the instep of my right foot to quiet it a little. The English call it ‘riding at a ton’. From BIM12, May 1996
Sailing down my Jupiter line
I have been working with Sharon here at camp during her remaining years on the planet. She’s 65 and came to me with a small retirement stash and asked me for some advice. Her funds have tripled since then and we been working on where she can move. Sharon wants to leave the US due to its general bad energy and politics so she’s been using astro-cartography to find auspicious places to live.
Astro-cartography is a map that has a overlay of your horoscope lines indicating planetary energies – auspicious and inauspicious. Jupiter is the planet of good fortune and Sharon’s Jupiter line runs a swooping arc for 4000 miles through the Pacific Ocean to French Polynesia – and beyond.
So Sharon had the whimsical idea to set sail and simply follow the Jupiter line in a sailboat for thousands of miles of good fortune. In any case it’s a brilliant idea. I can personally recommend astro-cartography for choosing harmonious places to live, work or go on vacation. A VERY savvy medical friend of mine just cashed in ALL his chips in the US and moved to Chile based on his Astro-Cartography.
9/9/2007 14:12 end of the season swim in Lake Tenaya. This is probably my last day in Yosemite until next July when the roads open here to the high country. The clouds over the south end of the lake are Ansel-esque – brooding - as though to let us know the weather Gods, if they cared to, could drive us all out of here at any time. Incidentally, this is a cell phone photo.
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9/16/2007 14:34 In a coffee shop in Bishop, CA. TG camp is closed. My colleagues are remaining for a while on the premises – I left 2 hours after I was
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able to with all my ‘stuff’ in the back of my new 2007 Toyota truck that I miraculously got less than 3 months ago. Already it has over 8000 miles on it. Last night I somehow got lost coming back to the place in the backcountry in back of Bishop where I camp by myself in the mountains. I was on a road that seemed to be getting narrower and rougher. I forced myself to just park where I was and camp. When I awakened this was the scene –
I was an entire valley away from where I had intended to go. I was about 4000’ above the valley floor in the background. So quiet.
Bishop is 4000’ lower in elevation than Mammoth Lakes and much warmer.
18 September 2007 14:42 I have at last made it back to Dreamland the hot springs in the desert. It is very quiet here – almost no campers. The cool front I anticipated is due in manana. I have secured a luxurious campsite in the full shade of a clump of incested palms – a tangle of intermingled roots creating almost a 20 foot long hedge of fronds that have shaded me all day as I attempt to drop the dross of civilization which has unavoidably attached itself to me during my summer ‘working’ at Camp High Sierra and having to give a semblance of being normal.
The desert here places no such demands on its denizens – that’s one of the great attractions here with many walking around naked most or all the time, eating
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whenever and whatever you like, napping excessively, soaking in the glorious natural hot spring waters of the many pools here – 6 actually. I had one friend who on the morning of our leaving, soaked in all 6.
Wizard Pool at Dreamland - built by Walt the Wizard [1921-2003] in the 70’s, R.I.P.
I have an exquisite camp 20 feet away from the ‘Dog Pond’, a room temperature spring which is captured in a now cemented pool and whose waters are used to irrigate the many palms down at the oasis and the lovely verdant lawn on which many luxuriate naked for hours. I am early for the fall desert season – one of the first of the ‘regulars’ to arrive. If I am able to hang around long enough – say for another month as many as 30 people will be camped around here. There are loads of birds around this campsite due to the pond – two large ravens were splashing in the pond and there are lots of birds chirping away in the palm thicket above me.
The flow has been restored totally to the lower springs from a 2 year low flow condition. Water now flows to the Bathtub – the elegant small natural rock pool next to the natural hot shower.
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I suppose I’ll have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life sometime but for now I am in perfect shade, I have a perfect new Toyota truck, my oatmeal has cooled down and the only thing I can hear is the pleasant splash of the spring cascading from the pipe into the Dog Pond.
19:45 the strong warm desert breezes have set my Tibetan prayer flags horizontal to the ground. I like to think my as yet unspoken prayers are winging themselves up to the ear of the Amitabha Buddha to be speedily translated into mundane blessings. Such is the low spiritual state to which I have melted here in Dreamland.
I took a one hour bath and shower earlier. I have not had to shower for over a week now as I have arranged to make it to one hot spring or another almost every day while around Bishop. We are half-way to an incredible Full Moon. I don’t really have a care in the world – I have a new truck with no niggling problems, it is incredibly warm and sunny here, there’s tons of water, and I have enough food and snacks for a week.
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9/19/2007 9:22 So far a coyote, a burro, several ardent ravens, a few small birds, and a hawk have transited my campsite this morning. The hawk flew no more than 5’ from my chair, ankle-high, coming through the palm thicket.
14:40 Card reading with the Barbara G. Walker tarot deck
left to right
11 Strength
4 Swords seclusion
Nimue Princess of Pentacles
Erda Queen of Pentacles
0 Fool
6 Lovers
Fate 3 Wands
18:13 I Ching reading – Taming Power of the Great
Perseverance furthers
Not eating at home brings good fortune
It furthers one to cross the great water
9/20/2007 16:00 An incredible micro-drama has unfolded right before me – perhaps orchestrated by the Oriental sages of old to illustrate my I Ching reading of last night.
As I was eating rice cakes using the large tree stump as my table I noticed a red ant pulling a chip of rice cake at least ten times larger than himself – or herself – across my table. The small irregular crevasses in the wood were obstacles easily subdued by the ant who would walk down into the crack, swing up over and walk back up the other side. I began to wonder what on earth the ant would do as he came closed to the edge of the stump. Undaunted, unslowed, the ant pulled the locomotive sized chip over on top of himself – herself – and then began walking it down the sheer El Capitan sides. The ant was walking down the stump vertically with the chip below him – her. Suddenly the chip fell to the ground with the ant never letting go – hitting the ground alongside the chip. The ant began moving all its legs once again stirring up grains of sand until finally he – or she – had righted himself – turning the chip 180 degrees in the process. Tugging the chip another 4 inches the ant backed across a pine needle sized splinter of wood which hung up the chip. The ant’s legs never stopped moving. Piles of sand grains were pushed against the splinter; the ant turned slightly angling along the splinter and then with the purchase given by a ball point pen tip sized pebble the ant heaved the chip over.
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After a few more inches the ant came to a hole in the ground into which he fell, never relinquishing his grip on the chip. Another inch or two and both fell into another hole beneath a leaf – disappearing from view.
Maybe THAT’S what ‘Perseverance Furthers’ means!
“But these craving [for the phenomenal world] result in his entanglement in transitory things, and he is unhappy because he impedes the natural flow of spontaneous events. Therefore: back to Nature! Cast off all knowledge and desire. Let yourself be bourne along the great current of events! Do not live on illusions of the senses, but seek the Great Mother, who abides, eternal and unchanging, in the ever-moving stream.” Richard Wilhelm, A Short History of Chinese Civilization, tr. Joan Joshua, Kennikat Press, Port Washington, N.Y., London, 1970, - about the teachings of Lao Tsi, Tao Te Ching. page 149
“…numbers of criminals and other desperados were sent to the front as troops. If they perished it was no loss; if they survived they were settled in the border districts, and formed a kind of cultural manure in the hazardous regions.” page 186, describing central Chinas attempts to keep out the barbarians from the north – Manchuria, and the west
“It is the non-existence in things that make them serviceable.” Lao Tsi, page 145
9/21/207 11:47 Without even trying I have broken my mauni [non-speaking] record – I have not spoken for about 4 days now. There is no one really to speak to, only Lizard Lee and neither he now I are given to conversing. He seems to soak around 4 PM in the main Crystal Pool – I in the Bathtub out of sight around the corner. This is one of the quietest I have ever seen the springs – almost no one is here. It has gotten a bit cooler and cloudy here although still quite warm enough to just sit around with only shorts.
15:05 OMG! Having climbed up the small embankment by my campsite to see the three groups of coyotes howling I saw new snow in the mountains. A few Mammoth-ians were predicting an early and cold winter before I left. Mid September is EARLY for snow in the Inyos – the mountains to the west of here.
I was awakened at 9:30 this morning by a small bird standing on my rear view mirror peering at me while I was reclined in First Class.
9/22/2007 19:01 Only two nights before the full Moon which hits right on my mid-heaven, ruler of career matters. Already the desert sands at this transition hour after full sunset are glowing white. Other than studying intently the ‘Oriental Mind’ I’ve done nothing. Without even trying I have now gone 6 days without speaking a single word - almost doubling my previous record.
“This position of Saturn [in the 12th house] indicates that in many ways you are quite insecure, but rather than confront your own feelings of self-doubt, fear, anxiety, loneliness, or negativity, you tend to repress them, and may not even be aware of their power until you are alone for long periods of time and they begin to emerge. You may even feel quite isolated and separate from the other people, threatened by their ability to gain control over the external aspects of their lives, which you are struggling with the mastery of your own inner world. You feel a need for order in your private life – an order which may at times be quite rigid and oppressive, but which keeps the internal chaos from overwhelming you and threatening your hold on reality.” Tracy Marks, The Twelfth House, Sagittarius Rising, Arlington Mass, 1977, page 46. IMO Saturn in the 12th house is a sure sign of alcoholism and illness. Saturn the planet of structure is in the watery house of Neptune which erodes the structure - such as hanging around naked in Dreamland, reading the I Ching and taking copious soaks instead of showing up at ‘work’.
I am sitting in this last hour of light beneath my strings of Tibetan prayer flags. I think I will have to leave tomorrow as I have to finish up my root canal and I am out of Clif Bars.
“Just like 250 years ago when Daoism was born, Asians still feel like inanimate objects being moved or used by superiors or other incontrollable forces. Their survival strategy is to accumulate every bit of security they can gather. Saving money, training loyal and skillful children, forging connections with higher ranks, staying obedient to superiors, etc. for all their economic spectacles, Asians continue to struggle, to find security, courage, self-identity and unconditional love to understand freedom and justice, to acquire the body language and psyche of western people, to break free of suffocating social connections, to cope with anger precipitated and denied of an expression by core cultural values, to put the best face on a tortured soul.” The Confucian Mind, Daniel Wang, Xlibris Corp, 2006, page 368, Taming if the Great – ‘It furthers one to cross the great water’ also means study of the minds of foreigners is auspicious.
9/27/2007 Back in the desert. I have leaned my folding chair back into a large creosote bush in order to get some shade from the bright sun. I am sort of having to hide out from Lizard Lee as I ran into him at Von’s in Bishop and he mentioned Ross and Candy
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were not coming this fall as they had already used up their 30 day Park Service allotment. I have no idea how many days I have been here this year but it could easily be over 30 days already.
Driving in this morning I surprised a large hawk sitting by the side of the road. As soon as I got close and he saw me he began flapping his wings and took flight 15 feet or so in front of my windshield. That’s when I saw the snake in his talons. I took a mental snapshot of the hawk with its full 4 foot wingspan extended and the snake in loops and coils around its legs and claws. Incredible.
On the perils of beauty
“I have seen almost more beauty than I can bear.” Everett Ruess, A Vagabond for Beauty, Peregrine Smith Books, Salt Lake City, 1983, page ix
And repeatedly, he acknowledged, as have many others, that places like Keet Seel, and Kayenta, Escalante and Monument Valley, Navaho Mountain and Skeleton Mesa had “such utter and overpowering beauty as nearly kills a sensitive person by its piercing glory.” page ix
“…and the mysterious halos that float across desert horizons like the inner fires of unbridled imaginations.” John Nichols in the Introduction to Ruess above, page ix
I am in total darkness with my headlamp on. The unbelievably still last remnant of the last Full Moon is behind a cloud. It has silhouetted the large mountain to the East.
“But as much as I love people, the most important thing to me is still the nearly unbearable beauty of what I see. I won’t wish that you could see it, for you might not find it easy to bear either, but yet I do sincerely wish for you a little at least of the impossible.” Everett Ruess’s letter to a young woman Frances, page 145
“Eternity is made up of todays. Glorify the hour.” page 123, a letter from Christopher Ruess to Everett in December 1933 only a few months before Everett disappeared in the remote canyons of Utah.
9/28/2007 13:12 My practices of glorification have been miniscule – mostly involved with leaning back in my chair congratulating myself for not being afraid that my life is over. So far for the most part I am just sitting in the dappled shade of a creosote bush under cloudless, endless blue desert skies just gazing at the coffee mountains.
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“Everett trudged on – forgetting to return.” Stella Ruess’s caption to a photograph of Ruess walking ahead of his loaded burro.
“Mammoth Lakes is not beautiful. I need beauty in my life. I cannot live if there is no Beauty! It elevates my soul. Beauty is a reflection of the divinity.” All quite ardently stated coffee-house quotes from a friend - Therese. Therese is French, AND an Aries.
21:18 I suppose it could be said I wandered off to India and forgot to return. A full moon is streaming through my windshield. Last night was so warm I went to sleep wearing only my shorts. I awakened chilled and put my towel over my chest. Tonight it’s a bit cooler – I’ll put on my fleece lined jacket before drifting off. The desert sands are bright white in the moonlight, the surrounding mountains are silhouetted on the horizons, the creosote bushes are swaying back and forth in the strong evening winds, and the usual tons of stars are out.
“Yet she is also the Huntress like her brother Apollo, she is to be seen in dim woods with her maidens an her hounds. Woe to him who, not being utterly chaste, surprises her! Her arrows are barbed with silver as his with gold; and if his are dipped in death, so hers are poisoned with madness. Restlessness, hunger for the unattainable, seeking after strange pleasures, such are some of the lesser signs of moon infatuation.” Evangeline Adams, Your Place Among the Stars, Dell, 1972, Copyright 1930, E Adams, Dodd, Mead, page 140, on the Moon symbolically considered.
9/29/2007 Bright sun, endless skies, gentle breezes – a usual desert day. If I had more sense or energy I’d worry. Only two more nights then out to Bishop on Monday and Santa Monica on Tuesday evening. After that??????? I got so cold last night I had to get my sleeping bag out of the back of the truck and put it over me. It’s an 11 today and nothing to do but drink Japanese green tea and listen to the radio.
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Lake Tenaya from Olmsted Point
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