Keira Brigit Pauline

Yesterday the East Coast of USA had an earthquake.  It's very rare for earthquakes to happen in the eastern USA.  A 5.8 quake hit in Virginia, not far from Washington DC.  Some structures got some damage, but there was nothing catastrophic.  The National Cathedral lost one of its spires and the Washington Monument is now cracked and closed indefinitely. Some people thought the quake was a terrorist attack because it's very close to the ten-year anniversary of 9/11 attacks.  The Pentagon and Capitol Building were evacuated, but people soon went back to work. The quake was felt even as far north as Massachusetts and Toronto.  Some people in my state (Connecticut) felt it, yet nobody in my town did.  Government workers in Hartford left their places after the quake. Well, it looks like it was uneventful, except the fact that everyone was shaken up by it.  And there is some damage that should be fixable for most structures.

When they stop reaching for the moon, the children begin to reach for the poppy. They know without knowing that death is red, its petals thinner than the thin skin of their crackling crepe paper fevers, and that it has a dark center in which they can disappear. It is not that they want to die, only to come as close to death as anyone has who is still alive, run through the fire quickly enough, pull open the parachute just in time, They want to taste one pollen grain from the bitter bread that grows among the yellow, ignorant wheat. Years later they  will reveal to you there was a time when they almost drowned in the river that flows backwards, the water that has no place to go. They will tell you as gently as they can.

Going south, we watched spring unroll like a proper novel: forsynthia, dogwood, rose; bare trees, green lace, full shade. By the time we arrived in Georgia the complications were deep. When we drove back, we read from back to front.  Maroon went wild, went scarlet, burned once more and then withdrew into pink, tentative, still in bud. I thought it only as we could go on and meet again, shy as strangers.

I. The sun may be visible or not (it may be behind you, the viewer of these pictures) but the sky is always blue if it is day.  If not, the stars come almost within your grasp; crooked, the stars reach out to you, on the verge of falling. It is never sunrise or sunset; there is no bloody eye spying on you across the horizon. It is clearly day or night, It is bright or totally dark, it is here and never there. II. In the beginning you only needed your head, a moon swimming in space, and four bare branches; and when your body was added, it was light and thin at first, not yet the dark chapel from which, later, you tried to escape. You lived in a non-Newtonian world, your arms grew up from your shoulders, your feet did not touch the ground, your hair was streaming, you were still flying.

Today my sister and I headed back to the Museum of Fine Arts of Boston again. Tickets are good for two visits, as long as the second visit is done within ten days of the first. I was happy to get back there. We also ate food at the Cheesecake Factory, a nice restaurant chain that has GREAT food. We also wandered around a mall. We first went to the subway stop called "Alewife", which is named after a type of fish. The place has a huge parking garage with many levels. It's a common place for people to come off the highway and park their cars and take the trains into Boston. The Museum of Fine Arts is right off the subway stop named after it. My sister and I were hungry when we got off, so we decided to find the Cheesecake Factory. We ordered salads. I got one with endive, raddicchio, pecans and cheese. It was to die for. It was so tasty I just savoured every bite. I can now die in peace because I have tried that salad. We also ordered pasta. We wandered ov

Last Sunday I went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.  It rained heavily when I arrived there with my sister.  It was to be the last day of the exhibit by Chihuly.  My sister and I were met by big crowds.  The line was going down the block.  Neither of us had an umbrella.  We waited in line for a few minutes and then decided not to bother with Chihuly, just try to see the rest of the museum.  I felt that we could do that.  We ran ahead of the line and inside.  Nobody tried to stop us.  We found the room to buy tickets in and stood in line some more, dripping wet. I got to the vendor and he said that anyone who had a Bank of America card on them would get free admission.  Thankfully I had mine on me and I got a free ticket.  I could also see the Chihuly exhibit after all.  So, my sister and I walked into the museum as line cutters. First we saw the musical instruments.  The museum has some harpsichords, virginals, many stringed instruments and some very old woodwinds.  I liked