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Again gray
Another morning of gloom and depression, without the actual rain that would waken mushrooms for Wife's scheduled mushroom program out at the nature center. That one looks like a washout, if you'll forgive the metaphor at cross-purposes...
And, in honor of last night's PBS Nova program on the samurai sword, a bit from my enigmatic smith in POWERS:
His kitchen knives -- nickel-iron born from a meteor's corpse, to give each blade the flaming magic of steel pulled from heaven to earth, worked and folded and folded again at the forge, carbon infiltrating the grain of the metal from a reducing fire, thoughts and words of making until the steel took shape and meaning from his hammer, a shape and meaning that could kill a god with the soul he'd forged into its heart. The blades could slice a tomato paper-thin as well, or bone a slaughtered cow, and he only needed to sharpen them once a decade. He wondered what would happen if he leaned across the table and drove this knife into the body of the demon.
And, in honor of last night's PBS Nova program on the samurai sword, a bit from my enigmatic smith in POWERS:
His kitchen knives -- nickel-iron born from a meteor's corpse, to give each blade the flaming magic of steel pulled from heaven to earth, worked and folded and folded again at the forge, carbon infiltrating the grain of the metal from a reducing fire, thoughts and words of making until the steel took shape and meaning from his hammer, a shape and meaning that could kill a god with the soul he'd forged into its heart. The blades could slice a tomato paper-thin as well, or bone a slaughtered cow, and he only needed to sharpen them once a decade. He wondered what would happen if he leaned across the table and drove this knife into the body of the demon.
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Ooooos
Seems poeticlly descriptive. But maybe that's the morning gloom mood.
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