The red flower on top of the roof

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“There is some kind of a flower on top of that roof over there, which looks kinda cool” Gun Roswell

The red flower on top of the roof

Sitting there quite pretty and aloof, that special kind of flower way up there on the high flying roof
And I guess when you look at it, spending its time in the sun and sometimes even rain it is proof
That nature really does survive, overcoming any kind of dilemmas and then they’ll totally thrive
So, whether to worry about the pretty flowers out there, standing all alone in the heat or storm
Don’t as they will make it just fine at least most of them, and the rest, well leave it to the worms
As they will most likely use those as food or whatever else they might just do with the remains
Still, after the storm clears, it’s all pretty soon enough again, the fields filled with flowers and all
And yeah, that flows up there on the roof? Did it really make it through? All that bad weather?
Yeah, it’s still there, standing ever so tall, and right beside it, a few of the same but in size small!

About summer

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“Something about summer… I just can’t really put my finger on it, but there is something definitely different about it” Gun Roswell

About summer

The summer time, seemingly fine with all the changes to the land and nature, the weather different from the wintery cold kind of torture. But there is just something totally different out there, in the garden, in the fields, something you don’t very often see, when the snow covers most of the ground. Something so uplifting and colourful, the smells alone, will warm your heart and soul. 

There is something about summer, which will most likely not be a bummer, despite the overly high temperatures and the mostly missing rain. But when looking out the window, the abundance of green colours in the trees and the grass on the ground, well, what can you say? It’s completely different to the white snow during the other months there to be found. 

So guess, for now, despite the negatives, I am enjoying this, simple time, where most of the clothing is even optional, with sense of course and then take small walks into the nature around my homestead and merge myself to the colours of all those blooming things and maybe even try a small ditty to sing?

Flora and the Leaves

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“The flowers in the garden sure are blooming right now” Gun Roswell

Flora and the Leaves

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.

As sweet as can be

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“There is nothing wrong with a little sugar in ones life every once in a while, now is there?” Gun Roswell

As sweet as can be

The reds, the blues and all the other hues, no matter which of them you choose, just be careful, not to any of the good parts to lose. When devouring into your hungry mouth, those cherries so plentiful without any kind of doubt. Just eat them and be proud, a little sugar of the good kind in your diet, may just keep your tummy happy and quiet.

Gluttony, some might say, and then on top of that for you pray. But just like the seasonal harvesting of hay, this is pretty much the same, as all those berries in the garden, are there for the taking and even if the neighbours are faking, saying they got the good stuff growing like weed too. 

Well, maybe do them a favour and offer them some, it could be fun, to have someone owe you and then next year, who knows, maybe they will be the lucky ones with a bundle of some berries and other types as ripe as your own are this year. As there is always the fear, of drouth hitting very near affecting the harvest, getting less.

So do eat, do share, and smile as it’s only fair, with the abundance of berries will most certainly make you leer. This is the season to enjoy the fruits of the earth and maybe even a few of them stash away for the winter’s mirth?

Mondays with Coffee

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“There is nothing wrong with Mondays, if you have loads and loads of coffee to support your fowl mood” Gun Roswell

Mondays with Coffee

The amount of coffee needed to survive a Monday, is easily calculable as you only need to put together the number of cups, clean, old, broken, small or big size, it does not matter really. But if you add up all those consumed ones from late Thursday afternoon until last one in the evening of a Sunday. Then add that figure carried with two, minimum, would be the only way to survive a full on Monday day. Easy isn’t it just?

But hey, if you me don’t that easily trust, when I have put forth this very high math formula in front of you, as the simple solution to all that Monday blues, then here is a thought you might try and then come next Monday do tell me I have lied: Why not just simply try, to not have a single drop of coffee during the whole day of Monday. And if you for what ever reason, miracle or other wise, have manage that day to survive, without killing too many people or run any other kind of fowl, then hallelujah to you! 

But deep down, you know that is all a lie and you really need that coffee to survive, Monday, Tuesday and the rest of the week too.

A Dreamers Dream Sunday

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“When dreaming, always dream big, unless, you have small dreams” Gun Roswell

A Dreamers Dream Sunday

The coolest of blues hit me, with the blues As I sat in the seat, carefully chosen, by the coolest seas Watching the skies, expanding in my very eyes And then, what the hell do I spy? An aeroplane, in mid air, in flight Yeah, right!

It was supposed to be my special dream From this dreaded place, for once at least to flee But now, here I sit and watch, as others, obviously, have taken my spot On that flying machine, up there, for all to see And, where am I? Well, down here, on this pretended life of a scene

But as I sit here, in my own fear And the air vehicle, slowly into the skies disappear I start to deep into my own thoughts sink, maybe even think That this place, where I seem to always so long stay Maybe, it’s not so bad, even if I am feeling sad It’s an OK one, sometimes even fun So, maybe, this is the dream after all I just have to adjust and then, dream small!

The blackest cat

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“The black cat did not cross the road, just because it did not want to be a cliche” Gun Roswell

The blackest cat

Intimidating they tried to be, for you see, that was the reputation to upkeep
Sullen and hardcore, a fighter sworn to be to the bitter end you see
As this was the often painted totally cliched image of the black cats heritage
But what if they did not want to live up to said sad and bad reputation at all
What if the only thing in the whole wide world for them was to play with a red ball
Then after the whole day spent, in fun never to relent, they would get
A bowl of milk and some tuna, then meow at the dark night in the light of the Luna
And after a while of having spent some time doing the things they loved
Curling up in a black ball of fur, and all cliches out the open window hurl
Sleeping soundly with a loud purr, next to their best Hooman boy or girl
As this black cat never wanted to be someone bad or the unspoken omen
Only a loved and treasured member of their adoptive family not the offender
And certainly never crossing a road, just because the tale so long ago told

Floating Flowers

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“Flowers floating by, always makes me smile, even when in the water myself” Gun Roswell

Floating Flowers

The pond filled with water to the very hilt of it. It was that season, the season of the monsoons, at least, what you could consider such a force of nature in the place, where water usually only in the pipes and oceans remained. Alas, with a full blast, the skies opened up and started pouring, the noises loud and roaring and then filled all the buckets and puddles and containers imaginary, with all that water.

But that was yesterday. Today, the sun is shining and most of the weather is now behind me and when I looked at the large size pond in front of me, which only the day before was a cracked and broken wasteland, is now filled to the very hilt with life giving water. And then, those pretty things appeared, out of nowhere much, but as such, they are now floating gently on the surface, lulling on the surface like they had done so always. 

As the small animals and other critters join in the pond, drinking, playing even swimming about with the sun, they all make a pretty picture of nature so lush and green, where only frequently, lifeless and barren seemed.

The antisocial me

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“I like people, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes, well, they are really too much“ Gun Roswell 

The antisocial me

This time of seclusion, combine that to extreme weather, the heat more importantly, with the never off turning sun? The seasonal joys of supposed fun? Well, at this very moment in time, when others are enjoying the heat and having some fun. What do I do? 

Lock the doors, pull down the curtains and dim all possible lights! Never ever leaving the house and keep as quiet as a mouse, just in case, someone had decided for my companionship to chase. Even if it is not the best of time, then again, it never really was.

You see, I enjoy my own company, my own time. Having to make absolutely no excuses for not dropping by anyone who otherwise would guilt trip me for not being the team player and the social one. Because guess what I found out. That I am really not!

The time of discovering the truth, how bad and unexpected, even unacceptable as suspected, but the thought of going outside into the world wide and facing the people, the sun, doesn’t appeal anymore and is certainly no more fun. Yeah, I said it, loudly, you feel stunned?

I have finally faced the side, which I had to hide, the antisocial me, but now, here she is!

The two options on my brain at any given moment

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“I have two whole modes in my small brain, and here is their story” Gun Roswell

The two options on my brain at any given moment

The brain is a funny thing, as a mere thought of pleasure can make you dance and sing. The happy mode can go on, at least until the end of the experience which caused this exercise in the first place, something which usually do not last that long as it seems after a while to beep something so totally wrong. The off switch then quickly hits, and all the fun and games seize to exist. 

The cells few and between in this mind, supposedly kind, so hard are trying to find the reasons for the face in front, to stay completely sour and blunt. It is odd, but then again the cells makes me scoff, after all, what the hell was I thinking, deserving all that leisurely break after all. It is so fake the brain cells keep on telling me, because without the sense of fun, I am free?

WTF?

Seems my brain supposedly superior cells and I, are on a complete divide, as all my stupid body wants to do, is hang out and waste some time. Preferably doing something causing a loud laugh, making the close by people to comment, “look at that!” Alas, as soon as I try to let loose, those f-Ing brain cells tell me I have to choose or I will loose, the rest of them.

This suggestion was certainly a no brainer, as am I.