travel, traveling, travel blog
“Sunset, that perfect cliché which exists, almost every single day?” Gun Roswell
The late night sunset (isn’t that when it happens?)
On my way high, high up
Ever higher
Closer to the sky
On a smooth elevator ride
Up to the 16th floor I fly
From this ocean view
Reserved for only a few
Enjoying the last rays of sun
The last of the sunsets
Of the month of… whenever
“The red is the colour of the magnificent sunset painted in the sky of the evening’s moment high” Gun Roswell
Red sky in the evening divine
Fire engine red, someone in the watching crowd said, as we were all gathered for the spectacle of the evening displayed in front of us on the sandy shores, and certainly never a bore was this setting told on a lore, as the sun with a loud roar dropped into the deep waters from the sky above.
It was told in a story once in the past and the glory of the moon would create such a blast at least for the duration of the night to last hurling the drowning star deep into the waters far to cool down for a moment until once again in the morning it would rise its crowning head from the watery bed.
The rays curling up slowly but surely until reaching the highest peak in the bluest of skies then warming us dwellers again with the bright white light for a while until the night once again arrived and the moon would overpower the sun, thus completing the circle of routine once again neither of them really winning the game.
But that is just fine as in the end, we truly need them both.
“That golden moment, reflected, in the windows, in the afternoon light – looks like we live in the golden city!” Gun Roswell
The Golden Moment
The windows reflecting the light
As the afternoon’s sun is still bright
Colouring all the surfaces with gold hue
Completely irradiating the feeling of blue
A lyrical moment for the mundane grey
The feeling of dull quickly fading away
As the tall towers and the low windows
Make us believe in fairy tales and wonders
Our city now the golden one
Before the illusion comes undone
And we are back to the mundane vision
Of dull surfaces needing revision
“The vistas from a picture perfect postcard, the trees of palm surrounding the ancient built fortresses, something you don’t every day see, at least, not way up here, in the North, the land of cold“ Gun Roswell
The Palm Tree and the Fortress
A perfect view caught the eye of the weary pix snapper, while strolling along the streets of the unknown, but interesting city, the vistas each giving more to the traveller than ever been able to even imagine.
Appreciating the scenery, some of it from nature itself, some made by those ancients, who came before us, leaving a legacy, still standing strong after times passed for so long, remaining there for a moment longer, and so, enjoying them all, before they too might be gone.
The humble pic snapper trying to preserve in pictures, places from beyond, for those coming after to be able to appreciate, making them too see, that some things are worth preserving, after all.
“There is something about an open door, wanting to take a quick look inside, even if there is no invite” Gun Roswell
The open door
The door, remained open, as if left on purpose so
The invite perhaps left there for anyone passing by to cypher, to enter of not
As only the bold would most likely jump on the opportunity
Even if this was not a big city and most people knew the other
But, for the stranger, the new one in town,
This would be one of the few chances of taking a look around
Seeing how the locals lived, and with what kind of trinkets their home was filled
As there is a little peeping person in all of us
Simply wanted their curiosity to get satisfied
And so, the daring passenger from a foreign land
Decided it was the invite to take a peek, see what they can
From the doorway though, never really daring to enter
After all, respiting the privacy of others, was essential
“Take a ride on the train, running underground! What fun can there be found!?” Gun Roswell
The Metro, a subway, the tube, the underground…
The ride quite simple, just purchase a ticket and what for the arrival of the long or short train, depending on the time of the day.
But as you are waiting on the platform, many a people are there to form, even a brief line before stepping inside the waiting car, of the train going deep, under the ground, it’s in the name of it right?
But what a sight, all the unexpected things, or then not, depending on the points of view and what one really expected.
Still, if you are a casual stroller, then simply enjoy the ride, even if just for the heck of it, going around and around, right there under ground!
“Solemn, alone, in the middle of nowhere it glows, in the deepest of darkness, while in the daylight, a mere shadow remains“ Gun Roswell
Stand alone
For the safety of others, it never bothers to ask the why
Why it is standing there all alone
Alone in the day, alone in the middle of the night
The night so dark it will be the only light
Light for those looking for their very path
Path never ending, only time there to be spending
Spending all alone until the very ending
Ending cycle of being all alone
Alone at the end of the pier it stands
Stands always and forever, alone
“Sailing in the past, to the future” Gun Roswell
Ship in the Grey
Sailing in the past on the open seas forever seemingly to last
This method might not be the fastest of the safest method forward to move
Alas getting to the future so unsure?
Well, not in the hurry to do that just yet and so no jets but a slow boat
The sails flapping in the wind and when the mood swings
The sails will be lowered and the pace slower
This is the way to move, across the high seas
Never fast, wanting this special moment forever to last
They future out there somewhere, totally can wait
For this solemn sailor
“The artist sitting in their chosen place, never late, always there to take requests for those passing by, in a need of a smile.“ Gun Roswell
Painting on the streets
The streets filled with life
All kinds, all walks of life
Those simply passing by
But also those, making their living
Some selling things, others painting
Even a few perhaps singing
No matter what you might just be looking for
Some kind of a small score
Never is a bore though
Walking down the busy street
Perhaps getting off your feet
And letting the talented painter
Paint your essence onto the canvas
Preserved for the future
For those special memories
To be saved for eternity
“Close to the shore, almost on the rocks, but not quite, it was night, so parking was tight!” Gun Roswell
On the rocks of the shore
Parking problems? in the middle of the sea no less?
Never a good idea, especially when the visibility none too clear
Finding safe harbour can be quite tricky
During the times when the weather turns somewhat icky
And so avoiding them rocks close to shore might be a chore
But better to try then be caught up in a nasty storm
Guiding the boat to safety with the best possible precision
As going out despite he warning signs might have been a bad decision
Rantings Of A Third Kind 