“Not smoke or fire, but pure snow, on the water!“ Gun Roswell
Snow on the water!
It looked like a field of sorts, with an island in the middle of it all. It could have been used for crops or even potatoes, which were already harvested, before the snow fall. But, it wasn’t that, no, this, used to be an open sea, with boats coming and going, and someone even did, some waterskiing here. But now, that snow, had covered it all, even if the fall time, had seemed so warm. Then, one night, it all froze over, in an instant almost, and as the flakes well, day after day after day, soon enough, nothing but the white stuff, could be seen for miles on end. But not all was lost, after all, you could still go out there on the ice and walk. Or, if you were daring enough, maybe put some skates on and do a little pirouette. After all, this was the season, of winter, and usually, snow would fall and the water would freeze during below zero temperatures. And this was, the lure, of a scenic wintry moment by the seaside with snow on the water.
“The snow, makes all the difference, don’t you think” Gun Roswell
Nightly window view
It was once again that time of the season, when for some reason The expectance of having some much needed snow on the ground Even if the weather forecast predicted it was nowhere to be found But those hopeful ones, who dared to wish and upon a star dish Their deepest and most sacred desires, before they would expire And so, as the night time once again, like every day, on time fell Some of the fans of winter, remained seated, by the window sill And all of a sudden, all their wishes were granted, to the very hilt As the solemn flakes of frozen ice, across the chilly air, were spied And where there was one, soon enough, more would definitely follow Leaving the autumn, grey dull coloured ground anything but hollow And in the early morning hours, gleeful the cheers of big and small Were heard where ever anyone looked out of their windows small The snow had finally landed, and the season just got a whole lot grander
“What’s on TV today? Same old stuff or something more exiting, and I don’t want to see the news, they can be so depressing” Gun Roswell
Cozy fire on TV for the eve
Tried to watch, my favourite TV show, on the tube, alas, out of a fluke, there was nothing on, but a bunch of static accompanied by some white noise, as sung by a flaming voice. What to do? After all, I had prepared myself for an evening for a session of binge watching my favourite TV show, the same old one I had seen so many times before, and which I know almost by heart, still, nothing new or nothing too bold, just the way I like it. Alas, the TV still, did not agree with me, and did not get the signal needed from any of the techno boxes just around it, which were a plentiful to say the least, it seems, the gadgets and devises, in my home, grow and feed, like a beast! But, no matter what I tried, reboot, giving the ole’ boot, almost to the point of shoot, I did not have any luck, in starting that damned f..k of a thing, which would have made my heart sing. As all I wanted for this one silent moment, to enjoy, my shows, without torment.
So, the only thing left to do, part from the seller of this, wretched devise, to sue was to find some other clue, how to spend my well earned time of simple solace. Scratching my head, trying to figure out a better use of my time instead, and then, a thought occurred to me! Why not turn on the fireplace instead and watch the flames dance around! A tube is a tube to watch, even if it wasn’t my favourite sort. After all, this was a simple thing to do, just turn a knob and the fire, well, a mock fire, would ensure, a great past time, at least for a while, before maybe, I would get bored. Unless, I could incorporate, some other type of activity to it, say like reading a book, here in my comfy nook, which so much effort took, to set it up, for my special time to be spent, watching the shows on TV, for this eve. What to do next, now that, was the mystery, bordering a state of hysteria, but hey, using the old noggin, to figure it out, I knew I could, and for that, I am so proud!
Now then, I have finally, settled down for the evening, with a cozy fire, a book, something warm to drink and a few snacks, my teeth in to sink. Thus would start a new past time for me, as something comfy cozy did happen, alas not on TV. But, as long as there are stories to be seen or read, my hunger for different worlds, people and scenarios will be fed and watching that fire dance around, well, that is fun too! Who would have figured that would be the case? Well, now, I do! And totally, recommend it to you too. Oh, and the TV? Well, it is now finally fixed, as it turned out, a cable had been mixed, so as simple as that it was, well, I am still glad, that I had other stuff to watch, rather then the old shows, which I still love, but then again, can’t complain, about the time spent, watching the fire, every now and then, while reading my books, a new look, certainly, for me!
“Why not ride a bike, even in the middle of the winters plight?” Gun Roswell
Ride a bike, down a snowy slope
So, what if it is snowing once again, because, me, I can ride my bike, anywhere Even if the tyres are not exactly up to spec, and then might fall me totally let But that would be a small price to pay, for ride on this, two wheeled sleigh Down, down, down the slippery slopes, filed with so much of the new snow Then gradually, into traffic I go, wheeling away, really fast, but, well, mostly slow Luckily I got my thick padded helmet on, covering this unfortunately small brain And not to forget the elbow and knee pads, well, is there really a need to explain? So, watch me, riding my bike, despite, the wintery weather so completely snide And if I fall down, with only minor damage or less, well, at least I made you smile!
“It is that time of the season, when the snow, finally settles down, covering all, without an excuse or any reason“ Gun Roswell
Snow covered forest, for a moment
Threading on the narrow path, of freshly covered white flakes binding the surface together, just like ice on the lake. The only sounds heard, are those of the soft echoes, of my own footfalls, as I gently step so not to disturb the cover of this, elegant white powder, now lain across all of the land, which only yesterday, looked so bland. With all the grey covering most of it and faded greens on the forgotten lawns, was the only colour, or non colour, all over to be seen. But not today, no, today, it all looks so new, so fresh, so elegant, like someone cooked a white sustenance stew, just last night, for a late dinner, maybe, and now, for me and maybe others to enjoy, the freshness, the coolness, the crisp, all over. On my skin, on my pale face, even, in my nose and on my lips, as the flakes, from the heavens above, slowly still fall, and I can feel it all. The calming of this moment, where all the world is covered in one unifying and protecting soft and fluffy blanket. Well, at least, up here, in the North hemisphere, where we, the so called tall Northerners dwell, and at this time of the year, live in fear, of the darkened season. But today, that one single reason, is gone and, as the snow has finally landed, making us, mostly hunched up people, to stand once again, tall. As this is the season, after the Fall, we have waited for, patiently, laying low, not smiling, not talking, not even, each other stalking. Only, winter time, with the snow, gives us, the essence we need to survive, until such time, that the sunshine, once again peeks through the wintry blinds, as it does its way up here, to the very North, find.
“What the hell kind of box is this? A telephone? With a cord, do people still use these?” Gun Roswell
Phone home already!
The odd box of a thing, somewhat similar to that one on the show, which I used to watch, but painted in a way more cheerful colour you could almost smell the odour of the yellowish flower it reminded me of. The open and inviting door, to a tiny room of a space, the windows covering all the walls, and it doesn’t really feel that cramped or that small. But, what is most curious there, is an odd object, latched on to the back of the stall, a cord hanging loose with a plastic gadget at the end, something reminiscent of what I have in the past seen. In my youth so to speak, but hey, the age of it I won’t leak, but that is beside the point as this funny thing of a magical joint, can actually make you talk with people far far away. And today, that is exactly what I am going to play, as I insert the coin, which is another point to bring up, archaic things to discuss, alas today, the topic is this box, with the call home device to clarify and all odds to defy, I will place a call home.
“There is snow, everywhere! It’s just unbelievable! (As we would ever get snow up here, the North way, so close to the Polar bears who walk the streets in here!)“ Gun Roswell
Hop over the snowy hedge why don’t you!
There really is no escaping, when the weather gods are breaking in, the wintry storms filled with, well, snow! Lots of it too! Yeah, it’s really pouring now!
There really is no escaping, just trying to muddle through all that, heavenly shit, that is if you are not really into it and the way it just hits, one day, out of the blue, when it was just yesterday, all over grey, and then, the next one, all white fun!
There really is no escaping, nowhere to run, certainly no place to hide, as it really pours when it rains, well, snows really, but it’s all the same to me, as I don’t really it feel. Call me a spoil sport, I don’t really care, as I don’t really like winter, and it’s said out loud so there!
So, to recap what this winter wonderland is all about, at least from a point of view of someone, who could so very easily do, without, as it is a total louse (talking from experience):
Below freezing temperatures one day, the coldness seeping through, no matter the thick clothing you really cannot move in, soon enough, you will be holding your ears, fingers and toes, in a bunched up ball and when you get home, the colouring of red and blue, are the overall hue.
The next day, the slippery slope is the way, as the slightly above degrees, lets you for a moment breathe. Alas, the icy bumps on each and every surface, as the “warm weather” adjusted the pure white snow, to something so awful, not even a shovel, can break it apart, not even if you try to use it, like really smart!
Then, there are those days, when you wished just in your comfy bed to lay. The white powdery stuff just keeps on pouring, the winds howling and roaring. Because when you are finally trying to get out of the house, even to check your mailbox, then guess what? The snow has pushed itself against the door, and there is no way, to crack it open, not even screaming and kicking on the floor helps, trust me, I’ve tried. So, the advice here is to stay at home, until, gone is all that snow.
But hey, no matter how bad the weather gets, at least, the pictures, well, those look great! And if you really think the grass is still green on the other side, you really cannot so clearly see, and yes, even snow free!? Hey, why don’t you just try, to hop over the snowy hedge? Yes, well, what did you really except, some miracle or another to wash away all that, snow? (Ok so no last rhyme, which is fine, as this is a bastardised version of a poem anyway.)
“Playing hopscotch around the frozen creek? That is, if you fun games for the winter seek!” Gun Roswell
Cross over the frozen creek
The now solid frozen waters off the creek, once too deep to cross over, now proving to be a work of sustaining any kind of leap, faith or even a footfall placed on the very ice, once flowing freely. The watery way, which could easily have lead you to stray, now reminiscent of solid ground, rare, surely, to be found. But, nevertheless, there, the ice rests, at least while the winter lasts with subzero temperatures to pass and during this time, the crossing is made so easy, that even making pie would not top it, so whatever or whichever way you want to do, hopscotch or simple jump, to the other side.
“Riding along, singing a song, maybe, or at least, whistling a tune, when moving (read: slowly walking) towards the setting sun“ Gun Roswell
On the country road, towards the setting sun
“The time, is now,” to me, said the pasturing cow “To enjoy, this very moment, when the sun, is about to set, For tomorrow, another set of sorrows, will surely follow, So do not hesitate, go, move, crawl, walk, run, What ever it takes, just enjoy, this time, of the setting sun!”
It was the most and also quite likely, also the best set of any kind of advice I had ever received, and so, without further thought, I did then and there, decide To take up, on that very suggestion, and there on, without any further hesitation I took the first step, on the very long length, of this road, on the country side And started walking, way, way out there, towards the setting of the sun, divine
“Take a load off on the sunny side of the winter’s storm” Gun Roswell
Seated by the seashore in the sunshine with some corn
The afternoon sun, reflected off of the freshly fallen snow, now covering the frozen waterscape. A solemn bench still remained by the seashore sat, as if waiting for someone to take a load off a spend a moment to escape, especially, on such a fine day. Alas the streets were quite empty, not really sure as to what that had prompted, as not one single passer-by was anywhere to find, even if the sunshine, should have tempted everyone out and about for a stroll or a simple fresh breath to allow. Hours passed again, the sun ready to set in, for the night ahead, but still, a few rays dared to peel through and then, one creature courageous enough, had come out and was now, seated, on the very bench, in the sunshine still at reach, snacking on his big acorn, delighted to do it in some peace and quiet as usually, finding such spot, would instantly cause a riot. But today, he got some alone time, surely rare, in the big city, open wide.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 