Snow, behind the very window

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“We Finns call it the “Taka-talvi”, loosely translated as backslash winter, not fun at all, especially in the supposed spring month of March, that is just so hard!“ Gun Roswell

Snow, behind the very window

Snow, snow, snow, let it snow! But hey, it’s already the month of March, so stop pouring that garbage onto our small suburban, still quite large backyard! (to whomever is listening in). Yeah, you heard me, enough is enough and I am not acting tough here, by any means. Simply telling it as seen over here.

Though, to be honest, the last time shovelling the white stuff, cursing enough is enough, it might have been something the weather deities took to their hearts and out of spite, started pushing more of it, simply to show their might. And hey, on the record: that is not nice! (Shaking fist).

Well, today, after some more work out there, trying all them tricks out of the old sleeve, to rid of the pestering freely flowing white stuff of a thing, which even songs some people about like to sing, at least during X-mas time, go figure, what might be the trigger there! Maybe some state of shock or similar set of mind, trying to be kind here.

“Well, It’s worked so far, but we are not off yet!” Was the snide comment just said, as after the driveway was finally plowed, once again free of the snow, which miles on end you can see, at least, during this time of the year, which is not winter anymore, but Spring, so go ahead, try a song out that sing. It really stopped being funny several moments ago!

Paradise in the colour of Blue

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“It looks like the picture-perfect version of a paradise, except it’s all in the colour of blue, but hey, that is simply my chosen hue” Gun Roswell

Paradise in the colour of Blue

What is the most sought-after place, either here on Earth or then somewhere else, even around in the galaxy, where all of us so hard try to find, that one perfect spot, where it all supposedly did start for our kind? The life, us, the animals, all the other beings including the aliens out there, which I know to exit, all the surroundings, even if the scientists might state, it was a some kind of a big bang of a thing, which created it all, like throwing in a ball, that split to a million pieces, leaving, all that you now see, behind?

Well, you may know it called simply, as Eden or some other cute name, now stalled, in some temporary time dilation field like this was a scene, straight out of some fantasy flick. But, it’s still there, in whatever shape or form, and, if you keep on looking hard enough and long enough, that one special spot, can be yours, no matter where or even when nor what colour it might exist in, you will know what it is, when you finally with your own eyes it witness, Paradise.

Today, is Tuesday

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“It’s another day of the week, naturally!” Gun Roswell

Today, is Tuesday

The days come along one by one (usually the way they do)
It’s almost like singing a song (verse by verse moving along)
Today it’s Tuesday, when only yesterday it was Sunday (that’s how I recall it)
And now, it’s getting late, no matter how I hesitate, tomorrow will be here, I can feel it near (What do you know: It’s Wednesday and midweek, what a geek!)

Guess I need to stop worrying about Mondays anyway (Oh, did you worry before? Did not know that…)
Since the days keep on changing without my aid (Yeah, need a time machine for that!)
Why worry about some day, when there is always the next day (True, do like the Spanish do, manana!)
So, on this day of …ahem, Tuesday, I swear, not to worry about another damned day!!! (Liar! You know this promise or what ever is as good as the up and down going fever! You will never keep it, trust me, I know shit!)

Bring it on Tuesday, Wednesday and even Friday (Don’t forget Monday and something else!)
Every day, from this day on is my day (note to writer, how many times can you get away with the word “day”?)
I will start appreciating the here and now (Yeah, really! Like to see that)
And then, if not, nobody have a cow! (We already did! It’s there in the backyard!)

Painting on the streets on a seat Sunday

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“The Sunday always brings out the artistic side of me or at least, the art buyer that is” Gun Roswell

Painting on the streets on a seat Sunday

The non too busy shopping streets on a Sunday afternoon is what most leisure shoppers seek. The peace and quite, simply to take the time to browse around the produce on sale, especially all of those handcrafted details. The painters there too, conjuring the caricatures of the odd passersby, most of the artwork done with a smile. And then making a sale of the same, both parties happy with the end result without blame. And one other thing seems to be common for both seller and punter, the eternal bargain hunter, is that of the afternoon sun, and when it gets too hot to be walking around, a cool and calming respite is the only thing to be sought, as it is something which easily cannot be bought. And a seat in the shade, well that is like winning a small lottery or top price to be gained and then, spending the rest of the day, on a seat without complaints, well, that is what Sunday is all about without a doubt.

A view towards the seashore

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“Standing at the end of a very long pier, looking at the land where all them houses stand, yep, far too many of them there be and then, I flee to the sea!“ Gun Roswell

A view towards the seashore

When out there, to the great open sea, on a small vessel I flee, feeling totally free, nothing but the calming wind and the warming sun surrounding me. No constricting walls or even windows there to protect, but this does not have any kind of an affect as I am still well protected by these elements of nature out here. And, even if there is nothing visible or tangible there to see, I know I am quite safe, lulled to the very sensation by these gentle waves. And the longer I here stay, I don’t feel the need to get back to the shore, as looking at all them houses standing there, side by side, crowded, I already start feeling the bore. So, now that I have gotten my taste of this place, where the wide open blue has replaced, the need to stay in a small cocoon of a case, I don’t think I will go back again, rather my life on the road made of liquid spend. Checking out all the new vistas, to get rid of the restlessness inside, as I travel with my small ship on this large ocean quite wide.

Life on the Beach

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“The ocean is a place where the soul gets something replaced, something wonderous” Gun Roswell

Life on the Beach

The sun in the blue sky
My mind almost as high
As I am finally relaxing
All those feelings of taxing
Letting it all go
Taking things really slow
Down on the sandy beach
Life is so very simple
To say, the least

Boats, and similar vessels can take you there, somewhere

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“There is something about the open sea, when in a boat, out there in the open wide, even if it is a simple dingy of a vessel, it is fine, as it is so totally freeing simply letting the waves lull you, to some place far away…” Gun Roswell

Boats, and similar vessels can take you there, somewhere

The calm of the sea, the colour, the texture, the all, I wish I could just flee, in a boat, no matter the size or the contents, just as long as it moves, slow or fast, is fine as I can just get out there, to the open, wild waves, carrying me everywhere and anywhere, forgetting my past, even if that fact will only for a moment last, being one with the ocean of the world, to be gently hurled until it is time to come back and face the slack I may have caused while on the shore, as oh life, what a total bore, you can be, sometimes and the only good options seems to be, the wide open sea.

Tall against the blue skies, with a touch of red on the side

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“The other one is taller than the smaller one, but they do support each other very well” Gun Roswell

Tall against the blue skies, with a touch of red on the side

The tall lighthouse was sticking out, from the bed rock from which it firmly sprouts. Ever so gorgeous and made from solid rock, seemingly, nothing it could stop, from reaching towards the blue open and wide skies, singing many a song of all that which is divine.

But, the truth was, that the tall one could not survive without, being tethered with its small side kick of a tiny wooden shack, painted in red, dangerously so, as even seemingly making it only in tow of the tall handsome structure, the smaller one was, the stronger one of the two, never swaying in the wind, even if it could never sing the beautiful notes to reach for the skies.

Early morning hours

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“Looks pretty, the outside with sunshine, snow and freezing temperatures, at least when stalking it from the warm inside“ Gun Roswell

Early morning hours

It looked really cool, the sunshine and the blue
Reflected off the snow, in all the colours hues
The sunshine, totally awesome and sublime
Combined, the wintry scene storybook divine…

Alas, when checking what is the outside temperature
Today, well below the degrees of zero, way too irregular
To have good enough wardrobe to even make it
Out there without several times changing to fit
What ever nature is about to throw your way on this day
So, the decision, becoming very clear and easy
Rather then into so many restricting layers to squeeze in
Closing quickly the curtains and deciding of staying
Inside in the darkened room, where it is always cozy
As the other option of blinding lights and frozen skin
Is not as attempting at all, as the scene just seen
Through the window wide, but that is all quite fine
As now, I’ve got the nice and scenic picture to dwell on
During those hot summer days when the complain is strong

Window views, with imaginary scenery

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“I don’t think I can ever get tired of the scenery outside my window” Gun Roswell

Window views, with imaginary scenery

The many lands, the foreign vistas, the great unknown and all the open possibilities
For the exploration, to what ever lies outside, these empty and dull suburban streets
Behind the frames of this view, ever changing, but still, mostly, the same remaining
Window with the most perfect view, at least in my mind, leaving me feeling, never, ever blue
As I sit at the sidelines, in my usual comfortable seat and think of the open wide
World, just at reach, at least, in my mind, out there, outside, I cannot help but smile
As I gently lull myself into a dream state lazy, and then travelling to all the places
Wherever my own imagination dares me to carry, smoothly, never in any kind of hurry
Having always the perfect amount of time, to explore, to see, to feel, to live in it all
Even if it is never, well really, quite real, it is still, a trip or sorts, out there
Never leaving the comfort of these walls of my sombre home, still, never really alone
Not at least, when visiting these, far away lands in my mind, for the perfect scenery to find