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keholsinger.bsky.social
@keholsinger.bsky.social
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keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Mashapaug Pond
Pine needles cover the shore and a fallen snag lies in the water. Hemlock, white pine, and bare branches of oak and maple stand on the opposite shore.
November 30, 2025 at 1:49 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Something tells me that @bcdreyer.social might get a kick out of this exchange from the other site.
Aubrey Strobel tweets “The name Ruth’s Chris steakhouse infuriates me.” Merriam-Webster quote tweets “Merriam’s-Webster Dictionary.”
November 29, 2025 at 4:08 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Fog, by Carl Sandburg
Fog BY CARL SANDBURG The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on. (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
November 24, 2025 at 11:50 AM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Charters Brook at the inlet to Shenipsit Lake
A small stream winds between rocky banks with horizontal slabs of gneiss topped by a few bare trees. A field with yellow grass is in the midground to the right, and dry, yellow grass to the left foreground. A line of trees stands in the background in front of gray clouds.
November 23, 2025 at 12:34 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Love and friendship, by Emily Bronte
Love and Friendship BY EMILY BRONTE Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree— The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most constantly? The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again And who will call the wild-briar fair? Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now And deck thee with the holly’s sheen, That when December blights thy brow He still may leave thy garland green. (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
November 19, 2025 at 1:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday
A small maple with ylow leaves in front of bare trees and a gray blue sky.
November 16, 2025 at 2:40 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday
A small red oak (Quercus rubra) stands in front of bare trees and a brilliant blue sky
November 9, 2025 at 1:35 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
The old men admiring themselves in the water, by William Butler Yeats

I sometimes fear that I am becoming an old man.
The Old Men Admiring Themselves In The Water BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I heard the old, old men say 'Everything alters, And one by one we drop away.' They had hands like claws, and their knees Were twisted like the old thorn trees By the waters. I heard the old, old men say 'All that's beautiful drifts away Like the waters.' (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
November 6, 2025 at 1:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
What does it say about the world that these two papers appeared in the same issue of Science? www.science.org/doi/10.1126/... www.science.org/content/arti...
At futuristic meeting, AIs took the lead in producing and reviewing all the studies, by Jeffrey Brainard Cleaning the scientific house: Rebuilding trust in science requires confronting the harms of ghostwriting, by Naomi Oreskes
November 4, 2025 at 8:07 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Sympathy, by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Sympathy BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river flows like a stream of glass; When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals— I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting— I know why he beats his wing! I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,— When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings— I know why the caged bird sings! (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
November 3, 2025 at 8:07 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday
A bright orange sugar maple stands against the blue sky.
November 2, 2025 at 12:08 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Aurora, by Katrina Porteous
Aurora BY KATRINA PORTEOUS Sometimes in the high latitudes The whole night Writhes in its prison. Green sheets thrash And twist in an unknown Wind, wild rivers Making for elsewhere In the dark. Particle, Wave, in ever-changing Torrents, caged And volatile, the invisible Meeting itself in disguise, Arrives, alight, To remind Earth of its own Incalculable strangeness. (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
October 28, 2025 at 7:07 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday A view of Hartford, CT from Lookout Mountain
October 26, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
A timely observation from Christopher Wren via The Economist
Architecture aims at eternity, Christopher Wren
October 21, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Union Pond, Manchester, CT
Bright orange maple leaves spill from the top right to the center with a still lake behind and trees on the far shore. Fallen leaves cover the bank in the foreground. A few green leaves fill the top left corner of the frame.
October 19, 2025 at 2:03 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
After great pain a formal feeling comes, by Emily Dickinson
October 16, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
“Do what you feel in your heart is right, for you’ll be criticized for it anyway.” Eleanor Roosevelt - via The Economist
“Do what you feel in your heart is right, for you’ll be criticized for it anyway.” Eleanor Roosevelt
October 13, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Rocky Gorge Falls, Swift River New Hampshire
Water cascades over granite blocks from upper left to lower right. Granite stands to the left and right with a border of shrubs on the upper right.
October 12, 2025 at 11:29 AM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Diana’s Pool, Natchaug River, CT
Granite boulders in the foreground lead to a quiet pool and rapdis beyond. Oaks and maples stand to the side with a clear blue sky overhead.
October 5, 2025 at 12:46 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
I dwell in possibility, by Emily Dickinson
I dwell in Possibility BY EMILY DICKINSON I dwell in Possibility– A fairer House than Prose– More numerous of Windows– Superior– for Doors– Of Chambers as the Cedars– Impregnable of Eye– And for an Everlasting Roof The Gambrels of the Sky– Of Visitors– the fairest– For Occupation– This– The spreading wide my narrow Hands To gather Paradise– (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
October 1, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
There will come soft rains, by Sara Teasdale
There Will Come Soft Rains BY SARA TEASDALE (War Time) There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone. (Sent from Poesie: https://itunes.apple.com/app/id1332841582)
September 30, 2025 at 7:07 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Black Sands Basin, Yellowstone National Park
September 28, 2025 at 11:26 AM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Half of the the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. - T.S. Eliot
September 27, 2025 at 12:38 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
#SilentSunday Upper Geyser Basin, Yellowstone National Park
A lodgepole pine stands to the left with grasses leading towards a hidden river lined with more pine. Steam rises from hot spring on a bare hill across the river with pines rising on a hill behind them to a blue sky.
September 21, 2025 at 12:15 PM
keholsinger.bsky.social
Fire and ice, by Robert Frost
September 17, 2025 at 2:07 PM