At the moment, that server is returning a “DNS error.”
It has been off-line, or only intermittently on-line, since early yesterday evening. So, I’ve had no live data, since 4:30 PM EDT yesterday.
They hope to have it fixed soon — but I am flying blind here. Thus updates will be hard to come by — unless I am seated in a perfect environment. Or unless service is restored to the mobile (i.e., cellular, non-wi-fi) environment.
In the mean-time (continuing my fascination with golden flecked watery lit!), let us ponder the enduring mystery of the epitaph on Keats’ headstone (of nearly 195 years past):
. . .There’s no doubt that Keats foresaw his death with brutal clarity. The question that begins in the London Keats House and continues in Rome—both at the Keats-Shelley House and at Keats’s gravesite—is how exactly he felt about that. Surely heartbroken, frightened, frustrated, despairing. But the words that he asked his friends to have carved into his gravestone—only these words, not his name—conjure an enigma: “Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water.”
Is this epitaph an angry protest against the unfairness of a fate that appeared to have deprived him of a chance of immortality, or an almost zen-like statement of resignation and of the impermanence of all existence?. . . .
Writ in water, indeed. Onward, just the same. Smiling in the pelting rain.