Arch all the way to the end

Posted on by

“The many arches on the way, gently swaying in the mid day sun, during the walk to the very end” Gun Roswell

Arch all the way to the end

The long hallways, the ceiling arched, kind of smart if you think about it, the builders making it all so interesting, as those bricks laid long time ago, still remain in pristine and exact conditions as then, as in the before.

Taking a long stroll, walking slowly, without any kind of hurry, admiring the craftsmanship of it all, the very tall, pillars still standing there, absolutely bold, against time and us, small fleshy beings seeking for shelter, under the roof arching.

Along the long pier

Posted on by

“Being by the side of water, any body of water, makes the ol’ sailor inside of this body all nostalgic and all” Gun Roswell

Along the long pier

Take a long walk, a run, or simply just hang around, the pier so long, it takes a moment more, to reach from the beginning to the end and then back again, but it does not matter as all around, there is water, boats and even some scenery, and that is all that is needed, for a stroll along the very long pier, perhaps if daring, even a dive to the inviting blues, as nobody will judge anyone wanting to take some time, under the warming sun, surrounded by the ocean making life so much more fun.

Against the Wall

Posted on by

“Whether leaning against it, wailing for sorrow or perhaps just painting it in various colours, the wall made of bricks is still standing tall“ Gun Roswell

Against the Wall

Lean against it, you won’t fall, because this sturdy made wall of a thing, won’t let it happen, made long ago, built to last, those people from the past, knew you would need it, for the shelter, a cover from the harsh winds, or just a shade from the bright sun, or perhaps to a hideout, from whomever was on the look out, for the one who did not want to be found, standing their ground in the shadow of the tall wall, never to fall.

Green Tram Ride 

Posted on by
Helsinki, Finland

“Take a ride, not on the merry-go-round, but rather on a tram, which can, go around the tracks just the same“ Gun Roswell

Green Tram Ride 

Take a long, long ride, in somewhat of a merry-go-round, the best there can be found, only this time around, there are no small horses to ride, as this one, is a fun filled easy peasy green tram ride, taking the rider to all the places with a stride, as this ride will go right through the town.

The old school electrical cart, which well, in most greatly stocked cities can be found, rolling there on their tracks close to the ground, and that is the safest way to ride, with kind of a pride, on this green and funky and multi-wheeled car of a thing, a tram to as they call it here, up north.

And so, get a ticket for a small fee, and then you too can ride the whole day, “for free” never mind the time, and if you miss some things, while looking around, whatever there can be found, simply make another round, and see the city through the eyes or rather windows while riding the green coloured tram.

Ships on the yard

Posted on by

“The ships on the yard? Well, guess it is true, that any port you can call home… is something something!” Gun Roswell

Ships on the yard

The old and discarded, wooden and made ships, on their sides left to lay, on the back yard no less, apparently having become obsolete and useless after some fashionable new ones had taken their place, what a waste!

Then again, isn’t that the way of the present day? But, if there was a way to restore these old school vessels, the beauty still there, even under all the dirt and old paint, the effort too big to take on? Anyone?

But for now, it seems, that those craft are left for all to be seen, as nothing more than a rotting pile of useless junk, making a good hiding place for the mice and even a few skunks, after all, the animals seem to be able to recycle old stuff, so why not us? 

Elements of the beach

Posted on by

“The elements both natural and man made, as observed from the coolest of shades” Gun Roswell 

Elements of the beach

The sandy shores, never a bore for the ever vigilant observer of nature, the elements found, simply by looking around, head turning all across the expanse of the beach, nothing ever out of reach, many an interesting elements to be found, just looking up and from the ground.

The water, always blue and inviting, the skies with a similar hue, fluffy cloud formations floating by, when the eyes look at the ever so highs.

When too much it gets, then the glance down let, observe the ground beneath found, the rock covering the dirt, but don’t get your feet hurt, wear flip flops when venturing to the shore, never a bore, with the waves crashing to the soft sand, just feel it with your hand.

The pier man made, concrete or wooden, it’s all the same, the construct pushing ever outward to the high seas, walk down there and the even you can see, out there over the great sea.

Ocean views

Posted on by

“A room with a view, of an ocean blue, what else can one ask in life?” Gun Roswell

Ocean views

The blues calling from the ocean deep, the soft waves washing a shore, the sandy beach nothing of a bore, with the skies open wide, the sun but a big smile, the warm fresh air, leaving no one in despair, beckoning the weary traveller to take a chance, as long as the days will last, to make their way to the side, where the water meets the sky, the feeling a thought, taking off the very ground and flying ever so high, like some sort of a fancy kind of kite. 

Only this is the dream, even if it all so real seems, eyes wide, looking at what was left behind, on the sandy beach, the body still stands, waiting for the fancy flight to somewhere land, but it seems, that the freedom of it all, lasted way too long, and now, it will never come back again, the idea, the thought, the dream, all gone, lost in the gentle winds over the ocean, the empty vessel remaining on the shores, watching the ocean soar, while the fancy flight of the thought up there in the blue skies will roar. 

Two or four, more is more? Or maybe not?

Posted on by

“Whatever it is, two is better than one, and then again, if you have two, why not three or more, after all, more is more, right?” Gun Roswell

Two or four, more is more? Or maybe not?

What is it with us and the fact that stuff keeps gathering up, in all the corners of the rooms of our homes, sometimes even chocking the whole office and bedroom, piles upon piles on top of each other, will try us to gently but surely smother?

Well, guess the old adage, less is more, has yet to reach the modern core, as the need for all things new and better, just is in sitting there, set in our current DNA, most likely to stay? Some of us maybe saying what the hey, when in Rome, but yeah, it’s the more that is definitely not the score.

So, if you see a low hanging fruit or berry, possible something like the pictured cherry, why don’t you simply try to settle for just two, and leave the rest there, for others to chew. Maybe it’s not so bad to just get the taste of it, rather than to try to overdo it with too much of the sugary goods? So, are you on board?

The water, the rock, the sunshine

Posted on by

“The elements of life, well, at least part of them, mostly those used for a great summer’s break“ Gun Roswell

The water, the rock, the sunshine

The spring of life, the cool blue stuff, the liquid so clear, you can see through it, and the best thing of it is, that you can actually drink it, bathe in it and simply, lull yourself to sleep while floating on it, truly the multipurpose tool for any kind of fool in need of some relief from whatever kind of ailment.

The rock, hard as they come, an element, none too fun, but good to be used as another kind of tool, like hammering down a nail or using it to cover up a trail, whatever use basically thought of, even a house built, well, sort of, but also, a great place to sit on, when all other furniture fails.

The sun, shining above, the warmth, the bright rays, the light, all of it combined, what a great surprise, after such a long while of remaining in total darkness, and so, for the duration of a season, perhaps more, the shining sun, sometimes a bore, mostly though, praised by lore, will be the one keeping up the spirits of those seeking its audience.

The rose painted

Posted on by

“The rose might the thorny, but it’s still quite pretty, and when painted in the colours of many, what is there to complain about?“ Gun Roswell

The rose painted

The rose, with its stem filled with spiky thorns, easily the sensitive skin got torn, with one simple touch, followed by a loud ‘ouch!’ Followed by too much blood, it was too painful to even watch.

Luckily, and aid was found, in the form of an bandaid, which really was nothing to fuss about, even the one whom so loudly did shout, was left embarrassed at best, for doing such a stupid thing in the first place.

A rose, is a gorgeous creature, one created by Mother Nature, not to be touched and fondled, but only from a far admired, and so, thorns or not, the simple message here is; do not touch!

Try another approach, while seated on the porch, perhaps a canvas bring forth, with colours of plenty it is time to start painting, making the memory, of the rose, in a perfect pose, before it will be gone.