volcanoes

From today's news:

Smoke billows from a crater of the snow-covered Mount Asama, central Japan, Monday, Feb. 2, 2009. The volcano erupted early Monday, belching out a plume that rose about a mile (1.6 kilometers) high, according to Japan's Meteorological Agency. The plume was still roiling over the volcano's crater late Monday.

(AP Photo/Kyodo News)

As I grew up and lived 20 years of my life in the Vesuvius's shadow -as they like to say- volcanoes and their temperament have always been part of a possbile future scenario, one that would touch you directly.
Today I read the news about Mount Asama's eruption ( Mount Asama is the picture on the right, covered in snow, the other is my volcano, that horizon part of my imagery).
In my suffering and confused world made of Gaza's struggles, Berlusconi thriving, Obama'icones building, art pervading thoughts and life and life in general being terribly interesting but equally mysterious, could not help looking into Plinius' death in the Vesuvius.

I was always fascinated by it as a younger person and still am: this amazingly curious scholar who has to see close by what rumbles in the womb of the divine mountain. I have called Mount Somma-my mountain, where I lived- as the 'mother' of the Vesuvius. In my mind Mount Somma was female and Vesuvius was male. Now with age I think she is female and has a rumbling womb... As a good Southern Italian I have always thought I will find death in knowledge. And I came across this fantastic account of his nephew, Plinius 'il Giovane'. And thought of most of you my friends-no death in site...

[Pliny the Younger, Letters 3.5.14-16;
tr. B. Radice]

The only time he took from his work was for his bath, and by bath I mean his actual immersion, for while he was being rubbed down and dried he had a book read to him or dictated notes. When traveling he felt free from other responsibilities to give every minute to work; he kept a secretary at his side with book and notebook; and in winter saw that his hands were protected by long sleeves, so that even bitter weather should not rob him of a working hour. For the same reason, too, he used to be carried about Rome in a chair. I can remember how he scolded me for walking; according to him I need not have wasted those hours, for he thought any time wasted which was not devoted to work. It was this application which enabled him to finish all those volumes [of the Natural history].