Some Kind of Yellow

“The summer brings forth all kinds of colours, and some of them are yellows” Gun Roswell

Some Kind of Yellow

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.

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

“There is just something about rain, I dunno, but yeah” Gun Roswell 

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

The rain banging against my window in the middle of the night, well it’s morning, but I’m not really counting, cause the loud clanging kept me from my beauty sleep, not that it was really ever that deep, just the same, I would like  it to blame, for the lack of my extension span, being quite low, in the early hours of the day, as starting with little of now sleep a day, surely a permascowl plastered now and there to stay, for the duration at least, but the I see, the tiny droplets gathered onto the leaves of the flowers I had bought cheap, and an involuntary smile creeps up towards my cheeks and ain’t that just creepy, but I like it just the same and the rain apparently is to blame!

Rose a pretty

“Roses are pretty flowers indeed, just remember them to feed, with lotsa sunshine, water and, lime?” Gun Roswell 

Rose a pretty

Reddish rose, take a pose, then let me take a whiff with my nose, but keep those thorns, away before I get all scorned, and my insides torn, as I only wanted a little more, basking in the prettiness of it all, just a small moment to stall, and isn’t that all, a mere mortal can ask, not really a big task for such greatness to share, just as this one did dare to get close enough to glare.

Yellow and Green

“Summer is filled with all kinds of colours, but guess the yellow and green ones are the most admired, simply because they are the most reminiscent of summer“ Gun Roswell

Yellow and Green

The flowers in bright yellow, as if positioned against the green of the meadow, posing there for a picture perfect stare.

But it wasn’t all these pretty flowers and green grasses were, not for those loving the summer, it’s freshness, warmth and sunny glares.

The fluffy clouds and blue skies, running outside without too much in clothing wise, as the colours beckoned from the window seen, all of those yellows and greens, never in winter time seen.

Fluffy fields of summer

“The flowers of summer are so pretty, one cannot help but spend some time gawking at them” Gun Roswell

Fluffy fields of summer

Summer, never a bummer, for those loving to frolic in the midst of the lush green fields, without any kind of shield on their person, running amok, that much is certain!

Still, picking up a few flowers, perhaps the body to adorn, or simply, them to adore, whatever the situation is, nobody will be amiss, of the warmth surrounding them all, a perfect utopia, Eden, this time of year is for them all.

And so, whether you are a lover of the flowers, the colours or simply running about nekkid in among the greens, this feeling of summer will never you leave.

Red, white, flowers or weeds, doesn’t really matter

“The weeds are in bloom now and they are quite pretty too!” Gun Roswell

Red, white, flowers or weeds, doesn’t really matter

They turned red, from the beige they were before, looking kind of bored, but now, the flaming colour, goes together well, with the setting sun of tomorrow, and no one would be the wiser, thinking they were simply weeds, discarded by most, just because, they were not the pretty flowery types right from the start. But now, they are reborn, having turned, into something totally great looking, delicate and fine, so, never judge, only wait until the end, and see, what turns up!

Late bloomers of the fall

“There are always those who figure out things late in life, and I am one of them” Gun Roswell

Late bloomers of the fall

It was already past the time of the prime, but these little buggers did not care, as they were, after all, the spares. The ones whom were not supposed to bloom, until the next year or maybe not at all, as their time was stalled, for the unforeseeable future. But call it a hunch or even nurture or maybe both, sprouting their small and imperfect heads from the rough terrain, without too much sun or rain. Still, they were determined to make their way, up, up towards the skies, where the sun would shine, maybe not as warmly as in the summer, but they did not care at all, as for them, life was already a bummer. So this was their chance of breaking out and breaking free. And with that kind of determination, against all the odds and predictions, these late comers to the scene were slowly but surely making their way, to the very world they had only made as spares. So, well into the late of the autumn, just before the first snow, these late bloomers kept on, their gorgeous colours finally shining through, not matter the less perfect outlook, they still made those around them feel good.

The red flower on top of the roof

“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

“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?

Floating Flowers

“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.