To get right down to Yellow Flower River
I often follow the waters of Green Creek.
They wind around the mountains endlessly--
A path straight there would run a few score miles.
There are sounds of water crashing on tumbled stones;
Scenes of silence deep within the pines.
Water chestnut and water fringe float on the ripples;
Still limpid waters mirror the reeds.
My mind is unencumbered, at its ease now.
Clear and tranquil, as the river is.
Come, stay a while, rest here upon this stone--
Cast out a fishing line and let things be.
Some thoughts on teaching, learning, and the process of communication. Posts on these pages are collected under the following categories:
Ambience: a grab-bag of words, sounds, and pictures.
Projects: completed works and works-in-progress.
School: items of educational interest.