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I recently signed up on a Web site called "The Paragraph of the Day," which celebrates the art of writing in one of its shortest forms: the paragraph. (That said, many of their paragraph selections are rather long, but you get the idea.) They held a contest recently for new paragraphs, which I entered, and since then I've been enjoying the art of writing appearing in my e-mail once per day. This one came on Tuesday, appropriately the day that it finally decided to start being winter outside my apartment.
(You can sign up for the paragraph of the day at http://www.tpotd.net/.)
--
In the west there were the autumn reddened leaves, mingling with the evergreens to weave a pattern of brocade, the breezes blowing gently over the red flowers, or the stormy winds that swept wildly through the pines. And as if to remind one of the departed summer, there were the fireflies glimmering by the swampside, so numerous that one might mistake them for the stars in the heavens, and the repeated voices of the pine cricket and the bell cricket, bringing one to tears.
And in the north, before one knew it, there was the melancholy color of withered fields, the ruins of the ponds sealed with ice, and the sad sound of the little streams in the valley.
"Conversation between a Sage and an Unenlightened Man," The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, Vol. 1 (1999)
(You can sign up for the paragraph of the day at http://www.tpotd.net/.)
--
In the west there were the autumn reddened leaves, mingling with the evergreens to weave a pattern of brocade, the breezes blowing gently over the red flowers, or the stormy winds that swept wildly through the pines. And as if to remind one of the departed summer, there were the fireflies glimmering by the swampside, so numerous that one might mistake them for the stars in the heavens, and the repeated voices of the pine cricket and the bell cricket, bringing one to tears.
And in the north, before one knew it, there was the melancholy color of withered fields, the ruins of the ponds sealed with ice, and the sad sound of the little streams in the valley.
"Conversation between a Sage and an Unenlightened Man," The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, Vol. 1 (1999)
