I own the movie about another green valley but my valley isn’t fictional . Right at the moment it isn’t this green either. Christmas Eve and my green valley is more brown than green and more gray in outlook but given my penchant for photography, I have a surplus of pictures of it. People wonder why I take pictures and write about nature but they shouldn’t. I mean, nature has yet to pitch a hissy fit about my photos and little paragraphs about its beauty. It never pours out its anger and frustration onto my shoulders nor pours condemnation for youthful sins down upon me like corruscating acid,designed only to cause pain. It is quite simply beautiful , everyday ,even in the dreary gray of a rainy day, there is still beauty. Artistry created by God and designed to fill the soul with joy. I may never write the great American novel but if I can ,with my bits and pieces ,show this artwork then I will be content.
I don’t really know why precisely I love to look and take pictures of clouds. It could just be their beauty, the white fluffy ones against the brilliant blue sky or the shapes they take on. This particular cloud formation brings to mind a pirate with a parrot perched on his shoulder as he scans the ocean for another victim. Could be a snake about to pounce on his handler, who knows? It is up to the eye of the beholder what they see after all. The clouds that are present at sunrise and sunset can also present breathtaking works of divine art. It’s that inticate dance between the sunshine and the drops of moisture that make up the clouds that draws me in and refuses to let go. Such a simple ,yet at the same time, complicated interaction that provides we cloud watchers with such exquisite artworks that change by the seconds at times . As a world we are so very busy now that we seldom look at the sky. Oh we take notice if it rains like it is today or something horrible and tragic happens and the sky is filled with smoke or like 9/11, the skies grow silent and no sound is heard except the sounds of sorrow and fear. I say we should do more cloud watching and less of trying to control the uncontrollable. Look up and perhaps find your soul!
Like a dagger piercing through the clouds, the sun came up that day. The clouds took no notice and moved swiftly to block out the warming rays. It was as if they wanted the earth below to remain cold and wet,dreary beyond belief. No break from the wet for the unlucky inhabitants, just more of the same. Day after day, the deluge had continued but in the wee small hours of the morning it had suddenly stopped and the absence of the pitter patter of raindrops had awoken her. She had become so accustomed to the rain that when it stopped even for a short while, it disturbed her. She had climbed down out of her high bed to peer out into the dark night as if she could see anything. A flash of lightning hit and just like that the sheets of water began falling again. after that sleep seemed the only thing to do so back to bed she went.
That morning when she woke up, it had quit raining so she went for a short walk to check out her gardens and see if the incessant rain had caused any damage to the flower beds or the trees. She’d already lost several mature trees to the deluge, the ground being sodden and the the tree roots unable to hold them upright…….
There are those who utterly adore the bone chilling cold of winter and even exhibit giddiness when confronted with a blanket of wet snow. I am so not one of these kind of people. I adore the spring and summer, when Mother Nature exhibits all the treasures God has graced her with. My arthritic bones rejoice in the warmth of the rays from the sun and my eyes are over whelmed with the panoply of color that washes the landscape outside my room. Oh, there is color in winter but it is restrained, not celebrating life but showing the shades of decay. Winter shows my discontent as it leads to introspection since sitting or walking outside and being active isn’t pleasant so I stay ,cooped up inside my aerie,thinking about life and all its chapters. This beautiful bloom would be considered a weed I suppose but just look at the color and the delicate petals. After all, all flora was wild and thought of as weeds till someone had the thought about planting the seeds of one plant and pollinating with another. This practice has lead to a huge variety of plants and some of the prettiest gardens in the world. One day, I will have my garden and hopefully ,more spring than winter so that I may sit and dream while surrounded by total beauty!
Now in the midst of fall and looking into the maw of winter, I choose to remember the variety of summer clouds. I was constantly being shown new shapes and configurations in the blue skies overhead. This one looked just like an angel with his head down and his wings spread. I have others, masses of them taken on days when being outside was the only place to be and some were even taken while standing in the swimming pool since it was situated in the perfect spot to take photographs of the sky. The hill top where I live offers a plethora of views of land and sky and taking these pictures at different times of year shows how one spot never looks the same year round. Now ,when the chill winds blow and the cold raindrops fall, these spring and summer photos transport my soul back to warmer times when everything was new and vibrant and the sky was full of beautiful art!
Aye , and it is a very frosty morning that I woke up to. I did leave a tiny heater going last night ,mostly pointed towards the bathroom to keep the pipes warm but as for me, I like my bedroom cool so I can snuggle under the blankets with my pillow I shall call Percy. Yes, I’m single and mostly likely to remain that way as I have become most particular as to what man I allow into my life. First he must be single as I do not care to share with another woman and he must be addiction free, a Scotch now and then isn’t a problem but drinking the bar dry is! Self supporting is needed as my own coffers are severely sparse and while I love to share, two can not live on one potato! He needs to appreciate nature in all its glory and not averse to sinking a lure into the lake or stream now and then. A fond familiarity with reading would be nice as I do love to read but it dosn’t have to be “War and Peace”, “Field and Stream” does just fine. A love of camping is also agreeable so long as he agrees to dump the bucket. I can’t hit the broadside of a wide barn but if he hunts, I do adore a good deer roast. Affection is well received and freely given. I’m realizing ,as I write, I may only find this masculine ideal in my fictional writings but hope springs eternal so maybe ,just maybe , this fellow is out there somewhere lost in the real world, attempting to land on my doorstep. I assure you I am not holding my breath but I might just be casting the odd eye over there now and then just to check. So, now that I have flexed my writing muscle, perhaps I should travel over into the fictional world I have created and finish my latest short story. I just had the aliens vanish all animal and insect life on Earth, which has left the television news people speechless. Maybe that’s why I can’t finish. I am so very sick and tired of the real life versions that having silenced their fictional counterparts, I an unable to give back their voice! So, if you happen by and give this paragraph a loosee, enjoy it and your day!
Yes, I am starting again here. Been battling the worst writers block but a very wise and talented author friend says to ,”get your head out of your but” and so I surrender my “but” and embrace my “do”. Do write under any circumstances and do not worry so much about the nasty little editor that lives beside the writer in my brain , she needs to hush and drink a mojito! I chose this photo of mine to illustrate the fact that I set out to capture the morning glory in a photo and managed somehow to take a painting of one instead. Perhaps if I set out intending to just write, to set down my thoughts and opinions , something might happen to the block and all those fascinating characters and story lines will come flowing out, hooping and hollering like college students on a raft battling white water. So, Kristin Lamb, once again you have inspired me! Thank you!