“There is something about the early morning mist on the waters edge, eerie, but pretty” Gun Roswell
Muggy Waters
Greeted by a view in monochrome
A foggy visual in complete monotone
Water’s surface windblown
Someone give me a phone!
This image needs to be known
Or my fame will be with the winds gone
“The early morning snow storm, caused a chaos on the tracks, but never mind, the trains will still run” Gun Roswell
On the rails when it snows
The early morning heavy rush hour, the traffic filled with vehicles, stopped on its tracks
Luckily though, it did not stop the trains running on the long rails, as a matter of fact
As the rail driven vessels never ever halting, not for the weather, rain, snow or fire
Pushing through, pulling the haul of many a cars, dashing through whatever going far
The train, the only working public; or other kind of transport, something the pedestrians now sport
This is the way to go quite fast and oh so very far, even the next city, and that is simply splendid
The ride rather smooth and gentle, even with the mileage left behind plenty of.
“The sun will always rise, even if the weather is really, really bad“ Gun Roswell
A sunrise I do spy
In the early morning hours, the sun will the moon totally devour, then spit it out, sending it hurdling through space, letting it there stay, until the night will fall, when the moon will rise once again, simply because of spite, hanging there until the very next morning, the dawn, where the sun will be lurking around, duty bound, waiting only to rise and reprise the feast, of gulping up the moon, the continued circle of the celestial battle as old as time, and for us mere mortals, this is all simply fine, only standing by, observing the eternal fight.
“The small spaces are the most comfortable ones, with little if no people present, and so, there is always calm without the puns” Gun Roswell
The calm of the small harbour
The small harbour waiting for the daily dose of people, on their way out to the great seas, perhaps some fishing to do or simply, for a leisure cruise, no matter what the purpose, the early morning always means some hassle. And then, the traffic jam is gone and left alone, are those few vessels, whom did not have any takers, at least, not today, but if they are lucky, then tomorrow someone them will be picking, for a ride out there to the lasting waves.
But, if you are not really a sea farer, not really, but you love the seaside, then why don’t you arrive to the harbour, just after the rush hour, fully prepared mind you, with a picnic basket in tow, even if you do not plan out there to row. The harbour life can be as much fun to mere observe of life, as getting out there in the open air of the waters, because a lot of stuff is going around all over the place in a small harbour area supposedly quiet, if you keep your eyes and ears peeled, and then interesting people, tall tales and other kinds of things, you me just be able to see and hear, and that is happening all in the calm of the small harbour environment.
“The sun only now rising, even if I have been working for several hours” Gun Roswell
Early morning office hours
It was still very dark, when I first arrived to the setting where office type of working is usually done, and not really the kind of fun, rather something where the laughter is reduced to stun. And the darkness outside, even when seated at the window quite large, does not do too much, as there is nothing to see, not even the bluest of calming seas.
But, luckily, after several hours of arduous labour, there is a somewhat of a nice surprise behind the glass, as the sun has decided to pay a visit, and the rise of it is once again something quite exquisite, leaving the onlooker in a warm fuzzy feeling, the rays lightening the mood, from brooding to smiling widely, and that is a thing not happening very lightly.
So, after several moments of practically bathing in the shining sun, the working day does not seem so totally glum anymore and all the many boring chores, are getting done, while singing a chorus, or at least in the minds of the worker, as they gingerly go on with all their daily duties.
“It looks like the picture-perfect version of a paradise, except it’s all in the colour of blue, but hey, that is simply my chosen hue” Gun Roswell
Paradise in the colour of Blue
What is the most sought-after place, either here on Earth or then somewhere else, even around in the galaxy, where all of us so hard try to find, that one perfect spot, where it all supposedly did start for our kind? The life, us, the animals, all the other beings including the aliens out there, which I know to exit, all the surroundings, even if the scientists might state, it was a some kind of a big bang of a thing, which created it all, like throwing in a ball, that split to a million pieces, leaving, all that you now see, behind?
Well, you may know it called simply, as Eden or some other cute name, now stalled, in some temporary time dilation field like this was a scene, straight out of some fantasy flick. But, it’s still there, in whatever shape or form, and, if you keep on looking hard enough and long enough, that one special spot, can be yours, no matter where or even when nor what colour it might exist in, you will know what it is, when you finally with your own eyes it witness, Paradise.
“It’s too early and way too dark and I cannot see much of anything! So, guess it must be, a November morning!“ Gun Roswell
Autumn morning in Suburbia
Very early, in the morning hours, after, a very quick shower
Looking outside, my window, and here, is what I do know:
It’s the very month of November now, the year gone by, so very fast
I hardly had the time, to really look around, and then it was already past
The moment, and already, the new year soon knocking, at my door
And I had not even bought, any kind of presents, from the store
Because the tradition demanded, that of a celebration, at the turning
Of a new leaf of this so called life, we are supposed to have been living
But, as I turn to take a good look outside, and the similar view I see
Each day, seemingly the same, all year round, except now, it is less green
I know the clock is ticking, and slowly but surely each day, is changing
The view now so familiar to me, but, soon will turn to something completely
Different, and then again, I will be here no more, to watch all the seasons
As they continue their ever lasting rotation, outside this same window
The circle of life some say, and hey, that’s just fine, but then one day
I would really like to stop the time, and take a really good look, anyway
“Just before anyone else rise, just before, the day break, total silence, total calm, nothing moves, nothing drops, not even the pin” Gun Roswell
Early Winter Morning
The snow crisp from falling down from the heavens
The air clear, the ground untouched, the hour just before seven
Nothing and no one about, except one vigilant scout
Looking for that perfect score, to open up all waiting pores
For nothing else is as cleansing to the body and mind
Than experiencing this moment alone and early to unwind
From all them nightly fears and terrors just before dawn
And, in the here and now, it is really easy, just before, the moment, is gone
Posted in Throwback Thursday
“Photography to me is catching a moment which is passing, and which is true”
Jacques-Henri Lartigue
Blue Moment
That moment at dawn
Has you quite drawn
The sky and nature
Of one blue creature
The coolest of blues
The nature in hue…
…A natural true blue
Rantings Of A Third Kind 
