Life seems like a pause in a system that moves at speeds beyond the speed of light, but it is not. In fact, in the continuous and tenuous movement of our atoms we can observe the vibrations that originate with the passage of time, the product of our own energy rising beyond our bodies. We are the most opportune moment for the universe, we are beams of light for the cosmos, we are the particle that occupies space and the wave that contracts and expands in a movement that seems like a dance, sometimes chaotic, sometimes too classical. As harmonious as a Beethoven symphony, the waves travel millions of light years in search of a refractory that decompresses the millions of beams that it has in its composition, different energies, different frequencies, so diverse is the cosmos as nature itself. Where is color born if not in the pupil of the observer? Where is the beauty of art if not in the perception of its creator? There, in the middle of our darkest ignorance, within the smallest of our cells, lies a small universe that vibrates to its own voice, faint, almost imperceptible, but there it is, evidence that our existence is much more than a work of art, more than a perfectly achieved design, it is a conspiracy of billions of beams of light housing an infinity of cells that satisfy the same desire "to exist." Life sprouts at every little opportunity, when you least expect it, a small seed that makes its way through the middle of an asphalted floor, It could well become a Sycamore whose roots make their way through the avenues, shouting its right to grow, to be part of this work we call life. Where do we come from if not from the breath? We are the painting that portrays freedom, not of judgment or of the heart, but the freedom of creation itself. We are not separated by anything but our bodies, but at the opportune moment that we were created, at that moment we already carried the expansion contained in the flesh, in the bones. Inside and out we are exactly the same, we are creation, we are Light, we are shadows, we are particle and wave, we are a small infinity of atoms, we are one of billions of threads that make up this universal canvas. In the middle of my chaotic and limited perception lies the calm sensation that I am a Whole, that we are an extension that has never stopped growing and certainly never will.

With the living room picture window now her quarantine portal, she marveled at creation as she observed her narrowed world. Time had stopped just long enough to help her pay attention. Processing the world's increasingly bad news was easier when gazing at God's artistic wonders. Bird songs caused her to freeze and hold her breath so she could count the syllables of each bird's call. What might they be saying? Who are they warning? Are they simply practicing their morning reveille? Masked faces hurried down the street walking their dogs. With brisk strides, they glanced about nervously as if they might be caught violating lock down requirements. The doggies didn't care, though. Their noses to the ground zig-zagged them forward toward inviting scents. But her greatest delight came from observing bunny antics in her front and back yards. Hops, dances, and chases. Ears pricking up, then flattening down to camouflage. Grazing here, scurrying there. Flopping in the dirt, then disappearing somehow. “Quick like a bunny” took on a new meaning. With dawn and dusk being their active times, she stood at the window each morning and again just after dinner. This glorious routine kept her from worrying about the growing statistics of death and dying. One day a bunny ran up the front yard downspout and then back out, scurrying to its safe place under the neighbor's large spruce tree. She named it Somebunny so she could announce, “Somebunny just ran up the downspout!” “Somebunny's in the front yard again.” “Somebunny's flopped near the flower bed.” Another day she discovered a baby bunny had made its home under their lawn mower. She named it Toro and warned him the mower was not a good place for a den. Later that Spring, three baby bunnies hopped out from under the back yard fence to graze just inches away from their warren. Quarantine's kind of entertaining, she regularly thought. Nature is so amusing. God certainly outdid himself when he created songbirds and bunnies. Then one morning, she saw the neighborhood cat trotting up the street with a baby bunny in its mouth. “No!” she cried and ran outside. But she couldn't get the cat to stop, and life was gone. Sorrow plummeted down to the depths of her soul. She cried out to God, “How can nature be so cruel?” “What were you thinking to allow such horrors?” Surprised by her lack of restraint, she stopped to listen for God's answer. The familiar still, small voice told her how He, too, cries over each lost creature. It was always His intent that the wolf lie down with the lamb, no need for killing. So, she read Creation's story. How the Genesis of life was marred by the genesis of sin. How the world fell by choice and humanity now wrestles in darkness and death. Then an image came into her mind: of Jesus' nail-scarred hands taking hold of the bunny caught in the cat's deathly grip, cradling it close to His breast and receiving it to the realm where the Genesis of life flourishes. From that day, she prayed over the bunnies. She stood watch for cats prowling along fences or crouching near porch decks. She became guard, caretaker, protector and defender, a first responder of sorts. Winter came, and the bunnies went into hiding. Snow covered the ground, but whenever it would melt away, she'd look outside the window just in case. Once or twice, she'd spy Somebunny under the neighbor's large spruce tree and she would smile, knowing he was still alive. But most of the time, she busied herself with other tasks. She paid closer attention to the news and realized the gravity of rising infection rates and death tolls especially in countries that still couldn't administer the vaccine. And she prayed. She prayed for the afflicted and the vulnerable. She prayed for the caretakers, protectors and defenders—those first responders far more critical than she. The world had morphed into an unfamiliar place. Now, fear and hopelessness cried out, kicking and screaming. Trust was absent and accusation ran rampant. Like cats killing baby bunnies, the frailty of humankind hit with brutality. Spring arrived again, and with it came new baby bunnies. Frolicking, grazing, and running for cover. She smiled and thought back to one year ago when she stood at the living room picture window observing the joy of creation. The innocence of beauty prevents us from seeing reality, she bemused. We are marred, she sighed in sorrow. Looking from the inside out once more, she gazed upward. And she saw the same hands that received the lifeless bunny now cradling the scarred world. "I'm coming soon," Jesus whispered. "I'm coming for the innocent, the pure, the poor and the persecuted. With healing in my wings and a scepter of righteousness in my right hand, I promise that evil will no longer invade creation's goodness."

CREATION'S MORNING By Janet Elaine Fichter Dawn suspends midnight's shadow Awakening songbird chorus Sunlight stirs hops and trots Dances for the day Creation wags it tail, Kneeling at Your feet Petals twinkle back a smile. Breaking chains of dirt. Lilies clothed in beauty Model down the runway Branches reach to Heaven Opening palms of praise Waters rush to cleanse debris freshening mountain faces Nature proclaims readiness Beauty arrives on time

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Women are a different species, but very sweet. Unfortunately, women do not head too many organizations. There could be a reason to it. Most women when they reach a respected level, they become obsessed with their career that they neglect their family. This arrogance reflects in business too and eventually they stagnate. It could be old fashioned to say that a woman learns the most in the kitchen. Some values do not change with time. A woman learns multi-tasking inside the kitchen. This doesn't mean she should be confined to kitchen. She should be given opportunities to apply her learning in a corporate environment. If she could show the care she gives inside a kitchen to her work, sky is the limit. In many ways men do not accept women to go ahead so quickly. But it is also true that you can push the ball under the water only for so much time. It eventually comes up. Men and women are equal but different. For example, 2+3 and 4+1. There is no point in comparing men and women. It is like comparing apples and oranges. They possess different qualities. They should understand their capabilities and work on it. The least anybody could do to a woman is to respect her and put a smile on her face. She deserves it!

Geoscope&National Geoscope Projects for all world regions&countries are invented and designed by me 1987 with many intentions&ambitions just like creation of artificial storms, artificial rains, artificial underground waters etc. Find out them in all websites by searching the name GEOSCOPE BY GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI.Make further research&develop,promote&propagate it.Recognize it by making references in your publications. This is not what Buckminster had made in 1962.Also there are many architectures in the name of Geoscope,Kindly recognize me as the Originator of the Geoscope in lieu of considering the immense efforts I have did for it and my quest to establish&implement it all over the world countries to serve the world people.

If you're looking for a scenic, relaxing place to take a walk, ride your bike, or go for a run, look no further than the tranquil Greene River Trail running along the Monongahela River, from Millsboro to Crucible. Soon, you'll be able to enjoy the trail all the way tp the outskirts of Carmichaels, with the addition of 2.2 miles of trail from Crucible to Jessop Boat Club. The current trail is 5.1 miles long and once the addition is completed will stretch for 7.3 miles along the river, following the lines of an abandoned railroad bed. The trail expansion will include spaces for benches and picnic areas along its path. The extension project hopes to provide benefits to the local communities. Citizens will have an even better route for walking, biking, and jogging. Public access to new sections of the Monongahela River will be available and it will attract visitors as a destination for outdoor activities. The added visitors will be a boost to local economy, and should create a bigger demand for eating establishments, convenience stores, bicycle shops, and possibly lodging in towns near the trail. The plans for the extension have been in the works for a long time. It took 6 years to acquire all the land needed along the route and then extensive clearing had to be completed to begin work on the trail itself. “No one's been on this land for 60 years,” says Jake Blaker, Director of Greene County's Department of Recreation. “There's a lot of brush growth, slips and slides. We've done a lot clearing and grubbing for the extension.” Drainage, creating culverts and other environmental issues had to be addressed in the early stages of the project. A bonus in converting rails to trails is that the rail bed aids in the creation of the trail by providing a well-built and stable foundation. The surface is relatively flat, though there is often deterioration in older abandoned railways that is reconstructed. The former railroad that ran along the river was in service from 1901 to 1961 and carried coal along the track from four mines: Gateway, the original Dilworth mine, Crucible, and Nemacolin. It no longer carried coal the last ten years that it functioned, but instead carried supplies for the mines. The coal mines it serviced, much like the railroad ,are no longer there - though remnants of Gateway, Dilworth, and Crucible can be seen along the trail route and further down the river, two buildings still stand from what is left of the Nemacolin mine. The Crucible mine has been reclaimed, the steel recycled and the cement ground up and reused for the Ambridge Walmart near Rt. 65. Still standing as historical markers are the dynamite shack and cap shack. The new extension will also pass remnants of Isabella mine's tipple across the river. With the trail's extension, visitors from throughout the region will be able to appreciate the trail's scenic views of the Monongahela River, countryside, and coal industry remnants. Along the trail, visitors can stop at Pumpkin Run for additional hiking or use of its gazebos, launch watercraft from the improved boat ramp area, watch barges travel up the river, and visit Rices Landing's historic district, added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1992. The trail extension project will help preserve and enhance the scenic and historic resources of the area. The Rices Landing historic district includes a National Historic Landmark, the 110-year-old W.A. Young & Sons Foundry and Machine Shop, as well as the remains of Monongahela River Lock 6, a brick jail built in the 1850s., and other early 1900s structures. A museum, located in one of the houses from Lock 6, features history to the river and its towns. Future extension plans hope to take the Greene River Trail approximately another 7 miles along the river to Nemacolin Mine and end near the former Hatfield's Ferry power station. Farther in the future, plans for the trail will have it running along the shoulder of Rt. 21, across the Masontown Bridge and eventually connecting to the Sheepskin Trail at Point Marion - a hub on the 48-mile West Virginia Mon River Trail system and the 150-mile Great Allegheny Passage. Parking for the trail is currently available at two of the trailheads, Greene Cove Yacht Club and Rices Landing Borough, across from Pumpkin Run Park. Another parking area will be completed at the future trailhead at Jessop Boat Club. Recently added to the existing trail, a new stone bench in honor of Ralph K. Bell has been placed near the Walking Man statue. The Walking Man statue was Hans T. Lubich's Eagle Scout Project completed in 2007. The finished trail will be available to the public in the upcoming months. A dedication ceremony will be held for the opening of the trail, as well as for the addition of new plaques recognizing the historic significance of the trail.

So soft and innocent. What person could destroy them? What poacher could ruin them? If you stare deeply enough, can see the trauma, pain, love, and hope. The hope that one day we will no longer burn their homes. Let them bleed. Turn them to orphans. One day man will all see the beauty in them.