It's the end of the world.

[hawkwing_lb]

Where now the horse and the rider? where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harp-string, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning?
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?


Sometimes I find the fact that the ultimate fate of every species is extinction to be oddly comforting. Not just individuals, but whole genera, ecologies, worlds - hell, even stars die. Everything's ephemeral.

But while the world might be ending, you still have to get up and put your boots on.

Comments

[clarentine]

Truer words were never spoken.

[hawkwing-lb.livejournal.com]

Alas. :)

[etumukutenyak.livejournal.com]

Amen sister. And once those boots are on, the kettle needs filling, the animals need feeding, and the day needs starting...

[hawkwing-lb.livejournal.com]

Indeed.