Photography
“Take a seat, on the little blue chair, it’s cool and neat, you can surely feel it” Gun Roswell
As always, during the last day of the week
The Sunday, the sunny day, is always reserved for the time to seek
But, when the midday sun, gets way too hot
You know you need to find, that one special spot
Where you are able to rest for a moment
Hoping it’s not going to be too much of a torment
When trying to gain that much needed momentum
To be able to complete, the most fun filled excursion
“There is nothing more invigorating, than the smell of fresh brew in the early morning hours, when stumbling out of the bed, half asleep. It is the only medicine for the cure of not being awake.” Gun Roswell
The early morning hours, never the easy ones for this sleeping ugly, because that is the correct word to describe the monstrous thing getting out under the covers and stepping their giant feet to the cold floor, nothing pretty to be seen, only scowls, snide remarks upon being dressed and worse remarks and quips if being asked. Surely, not a morning being, at all.
But, that will all change, once the medicined kicks in. And by that is meant, the one and only true healer, the saviour of it all, the one which can the biggest mountains make one move, and then to put on the daily groove, to any annoyed and sleep deprived person, the big uncooperative monster had just become during the night time.
Alas, the smallest scent will make the sleepy entity hell bent, on getting up and down stairs, bursting into the kitchen with nostrils flaring, taking a deep breath, inhaling the elixir of life, taking a sip, savouring the taste, then another soon to follow, until finally, the whole cup is drained of the darkest of brews, and then only, will do, a conversation or any other query, if feeling daring, as this is just the first cup, after all.
“There is always room for one more, on this very seat, the seat, in the total shade” Gun Roswell
The midday, right in the middle, of the month of May
It might even be June or July, alas, the month is not the why
But rather, the shining of the sun and the glaring of the sea
And where, in the scorching heat, is safest to flee
Is it diving, into the water or maybe hiding, under a tree?
Or take cover in the cooling air-conditioned shop you see?
But what if you need to buy something
Even a the smallest thing, but forgot to bring
Your purse or any kind of method of payment?
Then no, you cannot enter the establishment
Because the option of loitering means banishment
Then, out there, in the far corner of the eye
There is something so familiar, your eyes spy
The contours of some kind of a furniture
No!, Could it? Is it? And right there, in the shade?
No, it simply cannot be true, what I see
A bench, a solemn respite, in the shadows, under a tree
I run as humanly possible in this heat
And as I reach it, i can clearly see it
Yes, it is the one simple saviour I have search
In this hour of afternoon sweat and cursed
But now, I simply forget it everything else
As I slump down on this heavenly seat
And boy, am I beat! I think, I might get some sleep!
“The flowers in the garden sure are blooming right now” Gun Roswell
Leaves of purest greens, so totally slender and and sleek. Some of them looking nourished and clean. While others are eaten and filled with holes, most likely done by the feasting bugs and worms. But, no matter their status, they all have a past. Even if not from a very long time ago and their existence will not that long last. Still, for this very moment, they are standing tall and strong in the summer’s warmth, bathing in the rays deserved by all.
Swaying gently with the soft winds lulling them during the days longer. Only waiting for a flyby bug or a small bird deciding to stop on the branch for a brief sing while flapping their wings. Looming gently over the small buds of a flowers to be, which hide beneath these protective sleeves until such time when they sprout out in the air and looking for their fair share, of admiration. And all this simply because the green coloured armours have shielded their growth until the day they are strong enough to come out and make their way towards the skies just like those leaves did before them and now, it is time for the backstage.
“There are plenty of boats out there, to take to the sea” Gun Roswell
When a nice day gets in your way, there is certainly no reason in the bed to stay, rather getting up really early, with the wormy birdy, and then head out in to the harbour and spend the day at the sea. As the clearness of the weather, without a stormy cloud in sight, just might make the perfect of days, during these last days of season, before the snowy times arrive. The boats are plenty, like heavens sent, small, large, even a barge, picking one might seem a chore, but rest assure, whichever it will be, with a small size fee, you can rent it for the day and then hit those calming waves. Rowing or sailing, all that which was ailing to old bod, will be there no more, at least, not for the duration, as this is all the life needed for at least today. All them troubles of work and other kind of life soon to fade as the fluffy clouds will shade from too much sun as this will be a day of fun, one more time, feeling almost like summer, inside the small dingy of a boat, which was borrowed form the harbour for this one special day to sail around the large watery mote.
“Island life, can be a strife, but during summer time, all is simply fine” Gun Roswell
The place so remote, you will have to take a boat and then row it, a long, long stretch, before even let, close enough to the very space , the perfect spot, right there, on the dot, an island, which when boarded will keep you smiling, all summer long, but only if you can stay strong, never ever complain, about the lack of, all them creature comforts, left behind, on the mainland, as learning to stand, on your own feet, then and there, on the island bare, so far removed from civilisation, the only ones are the flying birds, which can you disturb, in the morning hours, but it’s all simply fine, as learning the mundane life, on the remote isle.
“The light will always prevail, no matter how dark it may just seem now.” Gun Roswell
The darkness descended all over the land, the time of year, someone retorted, but there was nothing better at hand, part from some artificial lights shining the way, even if it was in the middle of the day, as this phenomena was there for a while to stay.
But, there was really nowhere to stray, the path still clear, no matter night or day, the only difference, was the total darkness, having taken a hold of the northern part of the blue globe, aptly named, as Polar Nights, there was no manner of fight, to prevent it them from happening.
Having gotten used to this, seasonal trade, as in turn been given practically nightless nights in the middle of the summer times, for several months on end, only the light would there play, but now as it as late in the year, the seasonal celebration neat, the darkness was the one true constant.
And so, moving forward, day by day, as if slaves to the rhythm, apathy and frowns, taking over the once proud and smiling dwellers, like they were inside of a spell, but knowing this was only temporary, they moved on, out of spite to last over this, prolonged night, as light, would in the end prevail.
“The summer brings forth all kinds of colours, and some of them are yellows” Gun Roswell
The yellow flower alone stood, solemn, alone and proud, even in its own quietness still quite loud.
After all, it was a pretty little thing, it’s thorns adding a sting, to anyone daring to touch at least too much.
But as long as it was flowering, its petals glowing, with the yellow of the sun, looking like a lot of fun, nobody cared it was prickly.
As the beauty admired from a far, was as good as nothing at all, the summer brining out the best in all created ones.
“Let’s take care of *all* the animals out there, ya hear!” Gun
The tiny animal with knives sharp spikes on their back, sounds terrifying right? But as a matter of fact, they are a cuddle little thing, someone who turns up in the early spring and then runs around the garden all summer long. When comes the Fall, it will curl up to the smallest of balls, and then sleeps all Winter long until it is once again time for the upon coming Summer to prepare and that is where this tiny mammal will find their spot, right there, under the ray of sun warming up.
But, a gentle reminder, if you care to spot a hedgehog, then best place is really close to any kind of shrubbery or bushes. Still, the camouflage of this animal as optimal, so, maybe be very careful as to where your delicate fingers you will stick as the defence mechanism of the hog are those sharper than teeth kind of spikes at the back and prick your easily they will, intending really no harm, but hey, if you go poking about, then be prepared as it is their defence!
“The Autumn is the most colorful season a pix snapper could wish for, as nature is positively glowing with brightly hued shades of all reds” Gun Roswell
The fall of summer, did not turn out to be a bummer after all, as all the great colours, came out for the ball of a festival, arranged special, to celebrate the turning of season, surely a very good reason to do just that. After all, wouldn’t anyone get a tad bored, of all the green in control, over the whole of the summer, and it seems, they still are trying to hold on, despite the colder weather having a grasp of the nights long at last. But, that does not really matter as the fact of it is, that one without the other won’t exist, but, they cannot do so, all at once. So, in the natural order of things, each of them will have to take turns when they will their arias sing, as the cold blues and whites will own the winter time, the greenish tints starting from spring until summer and when the autumn finally falls, all the fiery best are released as the harvest feasts, turn all of nature to a mild wild fire of reds. And that is the joy of the season of fall.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 