Wintry Mix

Winter storm Neptune blew through the northeastern part of the United States yesterday. Here in Westchester county, New York, we received an inch or two of new snow, and the wind continues to blow. As I drove around town running errands, I spied an unlikely sight and had a camera with me, so observe the name of the boat located in a store parking lot. No doubt Old Man Winter is having a chuckle today.

Neptune is the Roman name for the god of the sea, and Poseidon is his Greek equivalent.

Faithful Care

Yesterday I watched a nice commercial for a company called Fidelis Care. I was struck by how calm, peaceful, and happy all the people in the ad appeared. I was moved to investigate the company name, knowing that fidelis, fidele is a Latin adjective meaning "faithful." I smiled when I discovered on the Fidelis Care website that it is the New York State Catholic Health plan. The logo also makes sense, as it shows a dove, a common symbol representing the Holy Spirit, superimposed on a human figure.

Fidelis may also be familiar because it is part of the motto of the United States Marine Corps (semper fidelis, always faithful), and it is in the title of a Christmas carol sometimes sung in Latin (Adeste Fideles, O Come All Ye Faithful).

Sweet Confetti

In Latin class yesterday my seventh-grade students were wrestling with the word confectus, a, um, an adjective meaning finished. I asked if anyone could think of an English derivative from this word, and several students suggested confection and confectionary sugar. We discussed that confections--sweet treats often made with confectionary sugar-- are often eaten at the end of a meal, and therefore they finish the meal. And so we determined that confectus, a, um means "finished."As we were talking, I also wondered about the word confetti, an Italian word brought into English. According to my dictionary confetti, from the Latin confectus, a, um, was originally candy or "candy" made from plaster thrown at carnivals or other festive events, and then later was replaced with bits of paper as we know confetti today. Etymology is definitely a sweet treat.

New Year Reflection

One of my favorite excerpts from the poetry of Ovid captures the four seasons in two lines. I surely must have written of these lines before, but I believe in repetition, so here they are, courtesy of The Latin Library:

Poma dat autumnus: formosa est messibus aestas:

Ver praebet flores: igne levatur hiems.

                                                                                    Ovid, Remedia Amoris 187-188

Translation:  Autumn gives fruits: beautiful is summer with crops:

                                    Spring offers flowers: by fire winter is lightened.

I sit on this fourth day of the New Year before a woodstove. Flames dance above glowing coals, and the rain falls on last night's snow. Within the fire glows orange, the pale daylight reveals the orange spine of Millennium: A Latin Reader/374-1374 by F.E. Harrison, on the cover of which St. Jerome looks out from his writing at a slanted desk.

Reading, setting one's thoughts on fire, also lightens the dark winter. In addition to Millennium, I have Sarah Ruden's translation of Vergil's Aeneid at hand. The Latin excerpts in Millennium, balanced by the spare English of Ruden, set in the landscape of snow, before a fire--no better way to welcome another year than to look back, way back, and, catching fire, reflect the light of millennia.

Fishing Lines

The motto of the Flyfishers' Club (London) swam into view in today's Halifax Chronicle-Herald: Piscator non solum piscatur. Loosely translated in the newspaper: Fishing isn't just about fishing. More literally translated: A fisherman does not only fish. Most assuredly fishing is all about spending time in nature; I almost wrote "real world," a retronym made possible by the arrival of virtual reality or the cyberworld that takes us in daily. Nature in all its magnificence and beauty is a wonderful place to visit, whether one is casting flies in a stream, brook, or river, or sitting on a bank or a boat with a line in the water.

The Latin motto plays on two words, piscator and piscatur. As often one letter makes the difference; the noun piscator is a person who fishes. The verb piscatur is a form of the deponent verb piscor, piscari, piscatus sum I fish, to fish, I fished.  Blogwriters have a Latin motto, nulla dies sine linea (no day without a line), but perhaps those who fish feel the same way. It's harder to drop a line in winter or wild weather, but reading about fishing gives fishers other lines to haul in. Here in Nova Scotia the haddock is in short supply, but tomorrow the smoked salmon will appear as a Christmas starter. Vivant piscatores (Long live fishermen)!

Eyes to See

Virtual reality (VR) is a trend going into 2015, at least according to an article in the Halifax Chronicle Herald (12/23/2014). Facebook spent two billion dollars to acquire Oculus VR, and Sony is working on a VR headset with the name Project Morpheus. I find VR boring, but I have not attempted any experience with a headset or game that puts me in full VR. I find reality beautiful and awesome, infinitely varied and overwhelming. Oculus VR is a fantastic name, as the Latin oculus, oculi m. means "eye." Brilliant, to name a VR product for the organ that enables one to see. Project Morpheus is another compelling name for a VR project, as Morpheus is the Latin name for the god of dreams. The Greek root of his name is morphe, which means "form, shape." The god of dreams brings many shapes and forms to our minds as we sleep. Is VR a kind of dreaming while awake? If so, Sony has chosen an excellent name for its VR product.

I also came across another Project Morpheus launched (literally) by NASA. I do not see a link between this spacecraft and the god of dreams, but the logo looks like a vertical take-off craft, and humans have long dreamed of landing on other planets; perhaps Project Morpheus brings us closer to fulfilling this dream.

Mighty Winds

The internet is amazing. Friends forward articles, and I am always delighted to mine classical gold from them. An article about an enormous tuba, a musical instrument in the brass/winds category, featured a musician with the same last name as mine, no relation. This musician co-founded a wind quartet that he named Boreas Quartet, a lovely allusion to the Greek name for the north wind. I'm not sure the dictionary.com slideshow will come through, but as I checked out the etymology of Boreas, the slideshow with some fantastic words about wind magically appeared on the page. Breeze through the nine English words of the slideshow, and if you are eager for more, try researching the other Greek/Roman winds: Boreas/Aquilo (N), Notus/Auster (S), Eurus/Vulturnus (E), Zephyrus/Favonius (W), and Lips/Africus (SW). Other English words from Boreas include boreal (pertaining to the north), and a Latin phrase we may have mentioned before Aurora borealis, the northern Dawn, known better in English as the northern lights, a beautiful celestial phenomenon in the northern hemisphere.