Word: tranquillity
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Planes Across the River. By 3 p.m. the battle of Buenos Aires seemed over. Gawkers gathered in the battered plaza. Between announcements that Perón was victorious and the nation tranquil, a radio station inanely played a record of an old George Gershwin song. Somebody Loves Me, I Wonder Who? Suddenly, rebel airmen struck again. Planes swept across the plaza, dropping bombs and raking soldiers and civilians with machine-gun fire. Hundreds more were killed or wounded...
...cool veranda, with its silvery curtains and pale green furnishings, is always a quiet and tranquil place. There is a soft, slurring sound of slippered feet from within, and an aide comes to attention: "The President." The man who steps onto the veranda is all in black-black skullcap, black Chinese gown, black felt slippers. As the President of Nationalist China stands bowing and smiling politely, the visitor notices the thin, angular face and skull, to which the years of adversity and self-discipline have given a sculptural distinction. It might be the head and face of a monk...
Besides, in France the sun shines, the grapes grow, and life can be good. France, the cynics say, is a tranquil country with agitated legislators. The indifferent tranquillity would be fine if there were no injustices to be redressed, no problems of poverty and inequality, no stultifying complex of restrictive and anachronistic business practices that need to be put right, and no deteriorating situation in North Africa. The system "works" because France has chosen to default on its proper place in the world...
Neighborly Dependence. Yet, despite the violence through which they lived, no province in Europe today seems more blessed with tranquil beauty than Flanders. The soft greys and greens of sand dune, marsh and meadow blend imperceptibly with the pale blues of the sky's rim, along an endlessly level horizon. Ornate old cities, which have known and outgrown greatness, nurse their memories amid a neat patchwork of fields where golden wheat and rye shimmer at each passing breeze. Turning idly in the same soft breeze, the sails of windmills urge the sluggish water along a network of canals which...
...members of the class of 1929 took off for a summer in Europe or a season of sailing with all the seriousness of a group of children setting out on a picnic. For, the world of June, 1929 was, if not an oyster, at least a picnic, a beautifully tranquil, world in which happy boys and girls romped under a gentle sun while the stock market rose in an always ascending curve...