SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7It's unusual for us to have such magnificent clouds above San Diego. I had a hard time deciding which of several photographs of the clouds would be the photo-du-jour.

This is a poem by Alexander Pushkin. I especially like "He loves his own song, and sings it for his frolic Without far-looking plans; he knows neither glory Nor any fear nor hope; with quiet Muse of his He can sweeten his cruise over the waters’ deeps."

Near the area, where reigns Venice of gold,
One nightly gondolier, directing forth his boat,
To light of Vesper-star, sails o’er the quiet sea,
And there Erminia, Renaldo, Gottfried sings.
He loves his own song, and sings it for his frolic
Without far-looking plans; he knows neither glory
Nor any fear nor hope; with quiet Muse of his
He can sweeten his cruise over the waters’ deeps.
So on the sea of life, where tempests so severe
Chase, in obscurity, my sail, alone here, -
Like him, without response, I sing my own song,
And love to contemplate my secret verse for long.