Blog Archives

Footprints on the Sands of Time



Here is a collection of musings, reminders and recollections I penned over the course of the last two years. Most can be found on my Facebook page (here), where they were first written. They cover a variety of themes and areas, with no particular structure or arrangement. As for the title of the post, I culled it from a line in a poem written by the American poet and educator, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (d.1882) – widely held to be the best-loved American poet of his age – called A Psalm of Life:

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White Sands, New Mexico (IMAGE)



info-pictogram1 White Sands National Monument is a desert, not of sand but of gleaming white gypsum crystals.




The sea can turn to foam in any part of the world, but this most often occurs in the southern hemisphere. Within a few minutes, the entire coast, houses and chairs disappear in suddenly appearing foam that slowly dissolves in the sand. For foam to occur in seawater, a large amount of algae, salt and some waste must accumulate.