|I am at loss today for what to write about Remembrance
Day. With two tragic wars currently being fought, I ask the
question “have we not learned?” Wars accomplish little but their impact
is great. Wilfred Owen wrote this poem in 1917 while recovering from
injuries and trauma. I think it says it all:
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
— Only the
monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering
rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of
mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for
them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of
boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls'
brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
After that I don’t have the heart to suggest you go shopping, but I’ll
leave you with some nice pictures. ?
If you will be in Whislter and would like to visit, we're open Sunday -
Thursday between 10 am - 6 pm and on Friday - Saturday
between 10 am - 7 pm.