“There are always three of them, aren’t there!” Gun Roswell
Not saving any ink
Painted all in pink
The houses stand tall
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall
In the harbour
From port to starboard
Yes, it’s a fort
Having stood there for a time very long
“The busy and narrow streets of old town beckons for shopping and whatnot, it’s a warm summer’s day after all!” Gun Roswell
The hustle and bustle
The use of the rustle
All the customers
Lurking about this summer
The Market Square
The biggest fair
This side of town
The jewel of the crown
Bursting with life
Peacefully, without a strife
Roaming the stands
Even if not a fan
You may enjoy the ambiance
So come on down and take chance
“The glowing blue wheel brightening the darkest of nights“ Gun Roswell
The Glowing Blue Wheel
The blue against the black, against the backdrop of the darkened night sky, the wheel of somewhat fun, but also, the wheel of hope, at least for those, whom are in the total darkness lost, bringing light ever so far, and so bringing the hope, for them to find a way home, having stumbled in the long night for so long, their feet, none too strong, but as soon as the wheel is to be seen, they too know, not all is for good lost.
“There are always people around everywhere, some call them tourists” Gun Roswell
Some kind of touristy stuff going on in here
The attractions of the small size city might not be many, but nevertheless they are splendid
But the shining white historic building sure is the one which draws attention to it so it must be a hit
As all them tourists are flocking the square, where upon the cathedral is built so time in the ancient past, and they all think it’s a blast
To have a look-see, just because you see, someone else recommended it when visiting this same old remote place
Thanks to the visitors, the dwellers of the city feel mighty happy having become part of the world with a spot on the map permanently
“The daily meal, at the end of a very long working day, was the one to be had with family, in the ancient times” Gun Roswell
Dinner time in ancient times
The daily grind in the fields are done, as farming is the livelihood, for this specific family, living in the neighbourhood, well, not that there really is one, just a small splattering of hard working families doing their thing to get through life in the harsh world of the past.
And so, gathering around the large table of the small cottage they all live in, the meal prepared from their own doings, the land providing all that which is needed, just the get by, to be fed to be able to carry on their farming, on the land around them. As the circle of life of the past, keeps rolling, along each passing day.
“Take a peek through the ole looking glass and tell me what you see” Gun Roswell
Some kind of window view (from the past)
The view from a window, found somewhere in the midst of a travelling on the low, in an old school village, built by some ancestral people settling there before time itself was founded, well, at least so many years ago, cannot even make the count, but it does not matter, as this was all someone’s home and now, a treasure trove for us, so called modern people.
But, as you take a seat inside the shadowy home, the darkness the main event, no matter if the sun is still shining, the window sill beckoning, to take a peek to the outside, finding no people, no streets, only calming vistas, the homestead from a long ago, peaceful.
Staring through the looking glass, visions from the past emerge, the children playing, the animals roaming without restraints, simple life, simple times, it was all back then, the sense of family and belonging, across the times spent, at least in the imagination of the onlooker.
“River runs slow at night, never a fright, even if a deep dive you wanna take, just outta spite” Gun Roswell
River slow, night time low
The night is upon, and nothing will get done, as it is, two in the morning, with low expectation of sun, still there might be something totally fun, to do, just for those daring few, while threading down the river bank, the place where the old boat sank, taking out a dingy, yeah, the one of no one is singing, and paddling across the short distance to the other shore, for whatever hoping to score, as the night time makes most of us dorks.
“The weather be a cold hearted wench, literally! The snow and ice, that ain’t at all nice! Not in April!“ Gun Roswell
Oh not this again! Snow in April?!
The weather, always be there, not matter where you are on this small sphere
Perhaps, if going to the moon, then there would be nothing there to over swoon?
No rain, no snow, no heat no warmth, definitely no sunshine, well, at least some, maybe?
But, always and forever, the weather down here on this planet, upon us daily dwellers, present
And that fact, simply annoys the hell out of those who can only see the one point of view
That of there being of an eternal summer with full blown heat and no rain to spare, with drought too, I am afraid
Or then the continued cold of a harsh and monochrome winter, snow, sleet, ice, nothing ever nice even on a dare
The weather gods dropping on their way, just the same old pouring stuff day in and out
Hey! I finally shout to those possibly listening in, what the f..k were you all thinking?
The calendar on the wall, clearly states this is not winter nor fall, but spring time should be all up and in the air
And so, send us some warm kind of weather and sunshine and perhaps a few drops of water too!
“The snowy roads, can be fun, but then again, dragging heavy bags from the store, to your home, can be everything else but fun!” Gun Roswell
Up the slippery street
The street side none too wide, but leading towards the home, which is waiting nice and warm after a day of slaving at work and then getting yourself to the market place for some dessert, well, more than that really as the bags are filled with items needed for the everyday life, just in case, the weather might turn and then, the only thing was to stay at home and churn. But today, while the snow fall had lasted a while and those blasted service people did not bring on a smile as the plowing had been left undone and well, hauling yourself and the big and heavy bags up the hill was everything else but the winter’s fun seen in the images from before, rather this one, was more than a simple chore. Hauling and heaving, getting some rest in between, even if the trip is not really that long, it seems like a mountain tall, to be conquered in the middle of the storm. But finally getting there, opening the door to the inviting and warm, putting away the produce from the bags, and then, it is time for a well deserved snack!
I tried to learn the Finnish language, which is really, really, really hard, and I realized that if I want to really learn it, I just need to figure out the swear words first, because those, are totally effective” Gun Roswell
Our Land (national anthem)
Oh Our Land Finland Fatherland
Echo Loudly Golden Word
No Valley No Hill
No Water Shore More Dear
Than This Northern Homeland
This Precious Land Of Our Fathers
No Valley No Hill
No Water Shore More Dear
Than This Northern Homeland
This Precious Land Of Our Fathers
One Day From Your Bud
You Will Bloom
From Our Love Shall Rise
Your Hope Glorious Joy
And Once Your Song Fatherland
Higher Still Will Ring
From Our Love Shall Rise
Your Hope Glorious Joy
And Once Your Song Fatherland
Higher Still Will Ring
Rantings Of A Third Kind 