A Word in Edgewise 11/13/17

Producer/Host: R.W. Estela

Today’s show was not recorded. Here is a transcript:

11/13/2017 — R.W. Estela, A Word in Edgewise

Today is the 13th of November, the 317th day of 2017, with 48 remaining in this year.
A couple of hours ago, just before sunrise, a close pairing of our sky’s two brightest planets, Venus and Jupiter, occurred low on the eastern horizon. At their closest, they’ll be 0.3 degrees apart, less than the apparent diameter of the moon, which is 0.5 degrees —close enough to each other to fit inside the same binocular field.
Later this week, the waning crescent moon will swing by these two worlds.
One week ago marked the four hundred and forty-fifth anniversary of Tycho Brae discovering a supernova in the constellation Cassiopeia — this before the telescope had been invented.
By Friday morning, the Leonid meteor shower should be peaking in the constellation Leo the Lion . . .
Today thirty-five years ago, near the end of a week-long national salute to Americans who served in the Vietnam War, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was dedicated in Washington after a march to its site by thousands of veterans of the conflict that would cost nearly 58,000 Americans their lives.
Today is my sister’s birthday. Some folks call us Irish twins, as our birthdays are only ten months apart. Happy Birthday, Karyn!
Yesterday I moseyed through the garden that my girlfriend and I have harvested many a delicious vegetable from.
A few days back before the first of last week’s hard frosts hit, we brought in the sole remaining pumpkins, eggplants, and cherry tomatoes. Now only the carrots and red onions will be able to withstand what November brings to the scene.
Poet Thomas Hood didn’t seem to think much of November:
“No sun — no moon! / No morn — no noon — / No dawn — no dusk — no proper time of day,” he writes.
But Hood was writing before the age of fleece and other lightweight insulation:
“No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, / No comfortable feel in any member,” he continues, finishing with “No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, / No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds — / November!”
Hood’s hyperbole is easily hewn, however, as we wake to a low sunrise and then watch the day’s arc of our principle star not much above the treetops.
And we know, here in the northern hemisphere, that our daylight is on a constant wane for at least another month, when at the solstice we might again celebrate the daily increase of light . .
So that every bit of enduring life takes on considerable value, by its simple presence proclaiming its membership among the many miracles abounding up here on the tundra.
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From Orono, Maine, Here’s to a great day!
rwe edgeword @ 2017

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