Arlington National Cemetery

Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia, United States.

The cemetery is a breathtakingly beautiful yet haunting and sobering experience.  

Men and women who served in several wars, to include the American Civil War, WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq, have been laid to rest here.  Others here also include military chaplains, nurses, Civil War contrabands, and countless memorials to those who never returned.  

The eternal flame marking the final resting place of American President John F. Kennedy and several family members.  

JFK and President William Howard Taft are the only American presidents buried at Arlington.

The cemetery also contains the Tomb of the Unknowns, or the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and many military memorials as well as ones to those from the Space Shuttle Challenger and the victims of the 9/11 attack on the Pentagon.

Arlington House--the former estate of Confederate General Robert E. Lee and his wife.  The half-mast flag indicated there was a funeral the day I visited.

It was a sobering reminder to see the family at the grave, to hear the gun salute, and to feel the chills that 'Taps' evokes as it runs down your spine.

But the budding new life the flowers reminded of the cycle of life...

...while the gravestones reminded of the sacrifices given for the next generation.

For more information on visiting Arlington National Cemetery.

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Oh, come forth into the storm

Leaving Harare for Hwange, we were greeted by this fantastic storm and rainbow.

It reminded me of this amazing rainbow in Wyoming.

To be followed by fantastic blue skies only moments later.

It seemed fitting that upon our return to Harare, storm clouds like I've never seen welcomed us back to the city.

Storm clouds over a lay-by.

This storm was breathtaking--you can see Harare in the distance; by the time we entered the city, it was a torrential downpour.

Most of Zimbabwe's cities have Independence markers on their outskirts.  This is Bulawayo's.

Ahh, Africa, where trucks are loaded with more lettuce than you've ever seen before.

Inspiration for this post's title:

A Line-Storm Song

Robert Frost

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain

The birds have less to say for themselves
In the wood-world’s torn despair
Than now these numberless years the elves,
Although they are no less there:
All song of the woods is crushed like some
Wild, easily shattered rose.
Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,
Where the boughs rain when it blows.

There is the gale to urge behind
And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
From which to gather your gown.
What matter if we go clear to the west,
And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
The rain-fresh goldenrod. 

Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
But it seems like the sea’s return
To the ancient lands where it left the shells
Before the age of the fern;
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain. 

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