From 2764ce38ff89667fc4073fb66cdd634caaffd613 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: Case Duckworth
Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2015 13:01:16 -0700
Subject: Fix #9 - ekphrastisize some poems

For ekphrastic articles, add `ekphrastic` node to YAML metadata.
This node includes subnodes `image`, `title`, `alt`, `link`, and `class`.
`image` provides a link to the local image--just include the file name
with the extension, not the folder (all images should be in /img/.)
`title` provides the title of the image, and the alt-text, if there
is no `alt` node.
`alt`, if it exists, provides the alt text for the image.
`link`, if present, wraps the image in an `<a>` tag--it should point
to the source web page of the ekphrastic image.
`class`, if present, sets the class(es) for the image, for styling.

In this commit, I've set `ekphrastic` on the four articles that have
them so far: 'The Death Zone,' 'AMBER alert,' 'The moon is gone,' and
'Man.' I've also updated .template.html with the changes, and updated
README.md to reflect the changes in YAML structure.
---
 sapling.html | 9 ++++-----
 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 5 deletions(-)

(limited to 'sapling.html')

diff --git a/sapling.html b/sapling.html
index 19feadd..1aceb23 100644
--- a/sapling.html
+++ b/sapling.html
@@ -37,11 +37,10 @@
             
                     </header>
 
-        <section class="content prose">
-            <p>He chopped down a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch. From first chop to fall it had taken him eight minutes and something like twenty seconds. Maybe a little change. He leaned against another tree and fished in his pocket for a cigarette. He lifted it out of its box and fished in his other pocket for his lighter, failing to find it. He searched his other pockets. He came to the realization that he had forgotten it in his Shack (in confusion over his True Vocation, he’d resorted to calling it simply the Shack until he could figure it out). He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.</p>
-            <p>“I wonder if trees are protective of their young” he said to himself, then wondered if why he had to think his thoughts out loud, then remembered he always did this, then remembered his conversation with Jill. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped that conversation was like <a href="options.html">the tree that fell in the forest</a> with no one around. “I wonder if a thought said out loud isn’t heard by anyone, if it was made. I think maybe this is what Literature (big L) is all about, if it’s trying to make a connection because no idea matters unless it’s connected to something else, or to someone else. Maybe no wood matters unless it’s <a href="last-passenger.html">bound to another</a> by upholstery nails. If ‘the devil is in the details,’ as they say (who are ‘they’ anyway?), the details are the connections? That doesn’t make sense. Details are details. Connections are connections.</p>
-            <p>“Still, a neuron by itself means nothing. Put them all together though and connect them. You’ve got a brain.”</p>
-        </section>
+        
+        <section class="content prose"><p>He chopped down a sapling pine tree and looked at his watch. From first chop to fall it had taken him eight minutes and something like twenty seconds. Maybe a little change. He leaned against another tree and fished in his pocket for a cigarette. He lifted it out of its box and fished in his other pocket for his lighter, failing to find it. He searched his other pockets. He came to the realization that he had forgotten it in his Shack (in confusion over his True Vocation, he’d resorted to calling it simply the Shack until he could figure it out). He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.</p>
+<p>“I wonder if trees are protective of their young” he said to himself, then wondered if why he had to think his thoughts out loud, then remembered he always did this, then remembered his conversation with Jill. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped that conversation was like <a href="options.html">the tree that fell in the forest</a> with no one around. “I wonder if a thought said out loud isn’t heard by anyone, if it was made. I think maybe this is what Literature (big L) is all about, if it’s trying to make a connection because no idea matters unless it’s connected to something else, or to someone else. Maybe no wood matters unless it’s <a href="last-passenger.html">bound to another</a> by upholstery nails. If ‘the devil is in the details,’ as they say (who are ‘they’ anyway?), the details are the connections? That doesn’t make sense. Details are details. Connections are connections.</p>
+<p>“Still, a neuron by itself means nothing. Put them all together though and connect them. You’ve got a brain.”</p></section>
     </article>
     <nav>
                 <a class="prevlink" href="question.html"
-- 
cgit 1.4.1-21-gabe81