Juliet’s Lantern

The kids were clever; they found a lantern which, when lit, rises up with air currents and wind giving a poignant symbolic focus to someone moving on. In the true spirit of Juliet it was of course light-hearted, shrieks of giggles and laughter, as it spun in every conceivable direction, gathering speed and eventually height, to leave us all so hopelessly without her. Saint Ossies’s bay 2009.

9 Responses to Juliet’s Lantern

  1. AJS August 23, 2010 at 4:56 pm #

    For a moment, the lantern appears in the sky with the moon, and one actually has the sense that neither it nor you are alone.

  2. Susanna September 6, 2010 at 11:57 pm #

    thats a beautiful write up.

    neat vid!

  3. chris miller September 11, 2010 at 12:20 am #

    A wonder-full event.

    BTW — where is St. Ossie’s bay?
    (I wanted the satellite view – but couldn’t find it on Google maps)

  4. Robert September 25, 2010 at 8:58 pm #

    Near Lulworth Cove in Dorset.

  5. Creative October 19, 2010 at 3:50 pm #

    Your description of a poignant symbolic focus is perfect! We released one of these lanterns late at night last bonfire night in memory of a close friend.

  6. abby jenkins October 22, 2010 at 8:20 pm #

    What a beautiful tribute…

    We set off some lanterns here in the states for my uncles 60th. There was mass hysteria in town, the police shut us down…people were reporting UFOs and the airport had rerouted planes! What a scene!

    We did manage to get about 50 of the 60 up… they really are magical.

  7. KTownkilla333 November 15, 2010 at 3:50 pm #

    I love how the floating lantern illuminates the sky and looks just like the moon. This is a very ineresting form of art. Very beautiful. Keep it up!

  8. marlyat2 January 20, 2011 at 1:06 am #

    Lovely, Robert.

    Do you know this?

    Elizabeth Bishop’s “The Armadillo”

    No doubt the comment box will mess it up–quatrains.

    This is the time of year
    when almost every night
    the frail, illegal fire balloons appear.
    Climbing the mountain height,

    rising toward a saint
    still honored in these parts,
    the paper chambers flush and fill with light
    that comes and goes, like hearts.

    Once up against the sky it’s hard
    to tell them from the stars–
    planets, that is–the tinted ones:
    Venus going down, or Mars,

    or the pale green one. With a wind,
    they flare and falter, wobble and toss;
    but if it’s still they steer between
    the kite sticks of the Southern Cross,

    receding, dwindling, solemnly
    and steadily forsaking us,
    or, in the downdraft from a peak,
    suddenly turning dangerous.

    Last night another big one fell.
    It splattered like an egg of fire
    against the cliff behind the house.
    The flame ran down. We saw the pair

    of owls who nest there flying up
    and up, their whirling black-and-white
    stained bright pink underneath, until
    they shrieked up out of sight.

    The ancient owls’ nest must have burned.
    Hastily, all alone,
    a glistening armadillo left the scene,
    rose-flecked, head down, tail down,

    and then a baby rabbit jumped out,
    short-eared, to our surprise.
    So soft!–a handful of intangible ash
    with fixed, ignited eyes.

    Too pretty, dreamlike mimicry!
    O falling fire and piercing cry
    and panic, and a weak mailed fist
    clenched ignorant against the sky!

  9. Robert April 25, 2011 at 6:42 pm #

    Marley, how on earth I missed this I know not, thank you.