Word: wintered
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...extraordinary moment the atmosphere was transformed. Anger seeped from the tent into the cool winter air as the crowd sang the black anthem God Bless Africa. They sang first in Zulu and then in Sotho. They sang with joy, and they sang with conviction. Speaking in English, Tutu told the gathering that he had asked the government, "Please allow us to mourn, to bury our dead with dignity, to share the burden of our sorrow. Do not rub salt in our wounds ... I appeal to you because we are already hurt, already down. We are humans, not animals. When...
...transportation. Says Chen Zhihui, the municipal planning commission's vice president: "There are not enough trucks, cars, trains or taxis. We have to plan to import more." Hotel space is insufficient, and air service is inadequate. Chongqing's airport lies in a valley that is fogbound so frequently in winter that one of every three flights must be canceled...
...Really tough. Great. He was a man. It was like a skeleton walking into the clubhouse to conduct a meeting, but that skeleton was in charge. It did something to me, lifted my intensity a level, made me approach long-term goals like they were short-term goals. That winter I was playing for Reggie Otero, Hutch's third-base coach, in Venezuela. We were bouncing along in the bus, listening to the Spanish radio, when I thought I heard someone mention Hutchinson, and Reggie started crying. I knew Hutch was dead...
...years earlier he watched the German airship Hindenburg float overhead on its way to Lakehurst, N.J., where it exploded at its mooring. But such encounters with history are few and infrequent. Mostly he catalogs childhood sights and sounds: his dog Pinky, knickers and knee socks, a backyard igloo in winter, a beach in summer. Occasionally his mother Rose breaks into the narrative to complain about her respectable poverty, her husband's failure as a businessman, his card playing and carousing. Dave Altschuler is part owner of a music store located in Manhattan's Hippodrome theater...
Most cowboy poems speak of real events and people, from bucking horses and cagey cows to old Stetson hats and long winter travels. Although they focus on the ordinary stuff of life, their truths, at least to cowboys, seem no less eternal than those penned by William Shakespeare. Some cowboy poems are bust-a-gut funny; a few are downright dirty. And some are just plain awful. But many carry an honest, primitive power, like these lines from Vern Mortensen's Range Cow in Winter...