Letter to the world

This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me –
The simple News that Nature told –
With tender Majesty


Emily Dickinson’s poem holds true today for bloggers and anyone who publishes their thoughts and ideas online.

I have so much to tell the world...

– an elegant passage on the intricate art of brewing tea in old China in Lin Yutang’s 1935 My Country and My People

– my mountain-biking on the soft hills of South Island, New Zealand

– long conversations with a golden-haired Danish girl with long endless legs

– earnest conversations with congenial friends in a green sanctuary

– epigrams that flashed through my mind: “You can know how much your life counts by counting the friends turning up at your funeral”

– the reluctant setting sun flaming the Straits of Johor

– old fictions that a close friend’s teenage son should read: The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark (1961) and The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff (1954), although I suspect he and his friends are more interested in pictures of naked females on the Web.

For me, such remembrances seem to be worth recording in a blog or in an online diary, so that I can read back months or years later, for personal pleasure. This pleasure, too, I want to share. So I recorded them, as letters to myself, and letters to the world.

But who am I kidding?

Nobody reads other people’s blogs and online journals unless the contents have inflammatory material, saucy gossips and celebrity ranting.

So far, only a handful of people have responded to the stuff I have posted on the Web. My consolation is that almost all other blogs in the wide world are also read by a handful of people, in fact only 1.5 people – the author themselves and half a friend.

Even Emily Dickinson’s poems were ignored in her lifetime.

Contents Page

Polar landscape, empty and vast