Not, without my Coffee!

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“Never leave the house, without, a) having a cup of coffee before or at least, b) a to go cup of coffee with you” Gun Roswell

Not, without my Coffee!

The morning usually starting, with at least, one cup of steaming, dark, hot, tongue popping delicious sustenance. But, if for some reason, and this could easily be called treason, there would be no coffee left in the house, because that louse of a memory, simply forgot, to restock the cupboards, with the one must item, you cannot without survive, then life, really is nothing, but a strife, spiralling quickly, down the nearest storm drain as after this experience, nothing would ever remain quite the same.

Alas a light at the end of the tunnel, as some sort of a food truck, just outside the housing complex had parked and the sweet, sweet smell of the wonderful drink, wafted to my nostrils just as I was on a brink, of total despair, seemingly, the situation unable to repair. But, with this turn of events, the total shock and horror could easily prevent, the fowl mood usually following a day’s start without coffee. So today, besides the most great tasting cup of the finest organic suspension ever devised by humankind, I also got myself a new best friend, a coffee vendor, from the Heavens sent. So, now sipping my coffee, quite happily, as that is the way any morning should be spent.

The red cottage in the forrest

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“The little red cottage in the middle of the forest, a dream for some” Gun Roswell

The red cottage in the forrest

It was painted in bright red, even if it clashed with all the green there, but still it remained hidden from prying eyes, even those who were considered spies. It was secured in the middle of the lushest and thickest of tall trees, from the ground up to the heavens it solemnly stood, and there was nothing or no one able to get to it either on foot or any other method. A tiny thing it might have been, alas a safe haven for the courageous builders, who had it up and run by the simplest of materials to be found, erected from the ground, not as a big or lasting monuments, but something more realistic and non-pollutant. A small cottage, in the middle of the thickest forest, a fable to most, but a home for few, who could appreciate the lure, of a simple yet sufficient dwelling, never ever it for any reward to be selling.

The warm light of the candle or a roll in the cold snow

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“I can take you in warm or I can take you in cold” Din Djarin

The warm light of the candle or a roll in the cold snow

The candle light flickered, softly in the darkening evening, warming, if you dared to touch it with your finger. Carefully so not to disturb the flame burning the small wick, a gentle touch with my finger tip, just to rid of the numbness of the extremity sore and blue, soon enough, turning into a reddish hue. Warmth spreading throughout the frozen body, feeling alive again after the coldness of the wintry distress, never again, thinking of fire any less.

As earlier the foolish endeavour outside to venture, the fresh cool white powdery stuff from the opened up skies fell down, pouring not tricking, but no pain inflicting. Soft and inviting it looked from the comfortable stance of the window sill, alas, when spending time outside, playing like a kid, clothes soaked through from rolling around in the wet and cold snow, soon the voices of cheer got awfully low. Coughing and sneezing, breath, wheezing. Arms, legs, even the fatty butt, starting to get numb. The only option, was stop all the fun, and run inside, or at least crawl, as there was no getting up from the fall.

So, now, remaining inside, while others might go wild, of the changed environment, so fresh and crispy and inviting. But, knowing better than to dare again, venture out here, where freezing is the possibility, no, the inevitability, rather staying here, by the hypnotising warm and soothing fire without dire.

Snowy road

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“There is so much snow out there today, that you will need a sleigh, to make it through, which is not bad at all” Gun Roswell

Snowy road

Snow covered the roadside, as it had been pouring the night before, during, a storm. The surrounding fields, laid under, a soft blanket, woven in threads of white, all of it, looking like something of a holiday book, the seasonal nook, to lay comfortably on. But what ever looks good, is not always putting you in the best of moods, as there was still the road to tackle, and as it was, much like the surrounding grounds, a mass of white powder, rather than a set of clear tracks. What to do now, as the trip to the nearest shop was not plowed? There were a few options, coming to mind, some of them, none too kind, like pouring hot water all over the place, but what was the point, as freezing would only result in using skates, but those were clearly out of shape. Then the pair of skis, against the wall standing, made of some old tree. Nope, the poles were gone, so sliding with a wooden frame under your feet, seemed too much of a feat. When all hope seemed to be gone, one hopeful thing appeared, from the very rear, of the open shed, visible only while looking really carefully. An old sledge, just there, on the edge! On closer inspection, it seemed to be in pretty good condition, considering it had not been used, in many years since the past, when all of us adults, were kids and thus, riding the ridges, like having plenty of fire under our bridges. But reminisce aside, this would be our very ride, taking us across the snowy roads, with a small sleigh in our tow.

Across the snowy bridge

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“The winter time can be quite magical, if you let it be” Gun Roswell

Across the snowy bridge

Not quite frozen but not really flowing either, the slow flowing creek now, in the middle of the winter. As the snow covering it, could be just a trick, tempting to step on it, even if none too safe at that. But, thinking of it really carefully and acting accordingly, maybe a safe passage across the Schrödingers’ bridge dilemma of a watery way, could be solved in a fashion without missing the play. A large tree, just up the creek, might just be the answer to that which you seek, as a tall branch once, now laid on the ground, acting like a makeshift bridge, as if it was simply made for exactly this. Snowy and slippery it was, but crossing it, would be a blast, an adventure in the middle of the winter, although, maybe with a few splinters. And that was the magical thing of it all, as you never really could be sure as to what to expect, so better always to be, watching that next step before leap.

A hidden message in the fresh snow

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“A smiley face inside a heart, drawn in the fresh snow – just a simple reminder of happiness and love” Gun Roswell

A hidden message in the fresh snow

A child’s play or an adults joke, was right there, in plain sight, just to poke, those familiar feelings, long since forgotten, dormant in the depths of the very protected soul of a being, once called human, now only fleeing, from any kind of warm contact. Even, the cool, calm exterior, the stoic stance, was all, just an act, it did not matter because nothing and no one would ever be able to attack, those inner hidden qualities, most of thought now lost for good. But suddenly, the hidden message written in a messy drawing, stirred something there, and now, without any kind of fear, and odd expression emerged from out of nowhere, half scaring the passers by, as it was also included with a loud noise. What on earth? Someone exclaimed, as the laughter and a smile, so filled with life and opened wide. It must have been a sign, that the end of the world was near. Alas, the owner of said oddity, did not care, but stood and stared, at the message and never letting, that good feeling, fade away. Not at least, today. No, but maybe, tomorrow, it would all go back to normal, what ever that meant.

In the middle of the night

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“I like to watch the outside world through my window” Gun Roswell

In the middle of the night

As I sat on the window sill, waiting, and quite still
In my usual spot, which I mostly these days, tend to fill
The hour way past midnight, could be, of a fright
But hey, for me this time, always feels, quite alright
As no one and nothing, out there, ever stirs
As during the day, it all just looks like a big blur
Not this moment though, as not a friend nor a foe
Dares to go, outside and in to the cold frozen snow
And only me, myself and I, dare to look out there
As the flakes at first kind of slowly, all over fell
But before I had a chance of thought, on all of it dwell
The storm soon enough began, its might to expand
The power so magnificent, leaving no branch unbent
And I felt exhilarated and totally alive the more I spent
My time there, in my very spot, watching, learning
As the world outside with cold white, was burning

Peekaboo, through the view

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“There is snow on the ground again, a lot of it!” Gun Roswell

Peekaboo, through the view

A forestry type setting
As the son slowly letting
The change of something
Quite new and alluring
White and crispy clean
Still untouched not seen
The view from behind
The trees to a divine
Setting from a fairytale
Which is not for sale
And lasting only for a while
And then it’s gone with a cry
But even if you manage somehow
To capture the image right no
You can see much more
Than any picture has in store
A moment of perfection
Fleeting by to a direction
New and most likely fine

Some kind of sunset

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“The sun is setting and I am letting, my hair hang down, after all, time too, will stall “ Gun Roswell

Some kind of sunset

It’s not very often, one really gets, to the state of that simple awe
But today, that totally happened, simply, from what I out there, saw
The countryside, the fields, the very open wide, of the high skies
All covered in rays of various blues, oranges, purples, reds and yellows
Making you want to stop and stare and shout out, really loud a “hello!”
This unexpected and odd effect, especially, during the time, of the year
When all is dark and there is nothing there, except maybe, the fear
That the sun will never, ever again turn up, and light our darkened way
But today, it was a special kind of a treat, where the feeling of defeat
And against all the odds and the grey and dull, was lifted for a moment
As if the nature, wanted, us, the dwellers of earth, get out of torment
Then, with a show so spectacular, painted the colours, across the sky
Before retreating, once again, and leaving us, the earth and all, behind

Sunday at the Beach

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“Nothing better, like a day at the beach, laying lazily, on a padded seat“ Gun Roswell

Sunday at the Beach

Sundays, really are the best days, forget all them days rest
As this is the one day, you can do what ever you may
Without too much of a thought, when acting like a sloth
Trying not too much to worry, about the next day, being sorry
That during, nothing got done and only having some needed fun
But hey, do not worry, as what is, but one single day off
And then, letting your hair hang loose, and not needing to choose
Whether a loose pair of the flip flops, are ´totally a proper pair
Of some kind of everywhere kind of accepted footwear
So, be, that one and total fool, and go and play it really cool
And head out to the that one special place, where there is no doubt
You can just be, the one being, without actually been seen
As a total jackass, for not always, working off their own ass
Relax, enjoy, your worries off deploy and take a load off
For today is that one day of a Sunday, and don’t need to show off