we watch the weather roll over this hill; we see mists slide down towards us, sometimes bringing snow. we run a tab with nature, fools if we forget this. when we are least prepared, perhaps; it will come due. mists and clouds obscure the hilltop in autumn. snow, in winter reminds us we don't go up these hills so well. these are our autumn days. it isn't over; the view is fine, from here.
Caribbean Rain last time was exotic tile roofs waiting in early morning rain. maybe it was here we saw pelicans, marine iguanas, rain, tropical rain. looking through glass, we see a certain welcome a welcome of a certain kind. rains taper off. rain, tropical rain peaceful warm rain does not alarm in any way instead, it soothes. (been wet before and always dried)
BW Tree looking lonely on a hillside, black on white is all we see under blackened branches i see no distant stars even there we crave light, we are night-blind even in daylight we do not see so well from here, it looks like scenery of some kind these days, it seems so hard to find good scenery, a distant hillside and a black tree...
Leaf on Asphalt (only a fallen leaf, a thing of little value) i cannot say what meaning there could be. how important is anything i have to say? does anything we think count as important? can we ever be beautiful as a leaf? (only a fallen leaf, a thing of little value)
Leaves and Grass today is a new thing warmer than i thought it would be. brighter, no rain fireworks celebrate something i forget. we look for rain when we are so parched as this our tired earth, a fallen leaf in grass, an old friend (we loved) who now is fallen, fallen leaf (unforgotten now) when we are gone, who will take up our memories? bright stories capture all possibilities. sadly, light fades (it will return) and darkness covers everything. we sleep
Autumnal this time of year our world begins to chill, so we wonder why we're here as light grows dim and air gets cold but not too cold to breathe today, october, colours start to fade except for trees which go to red and golden (a million leaves have lost their green and changed) this time, this change (is a beautiful thing) it decorates our cooling world and cheers us once again.
Blackened Barn roasting in hot sunshine, hundreds of years, it can't share its stories the laughter and the tears, beautiful wood colours, burned to black, no reason to stand tall, no purpose any more... the old black buildings lean, falling slowly, rotting wooden foundations crumble to dust any nails that may be found turn slowly into rust. still something there appeals to us. hope that things went well, sometimes, there might be stories but no-one's left to tell.
Immobile red berries cannot speak you say? they tell a story anyways. no wind whistles through the trees. a hot sun brought us to our knees. but that was then and this we know. these bright red berries seem to glow. nights are cool and will be cold, soon snow will cover all the roads red berries cannot speak you say? they tell a story anyways.
colours like these, i'd like to be, if i could choose. colours like these i could not wear, shirt or even shoes. cheerful like a little bird, singing in a tree. colours say or seem to say magic words to me, i wait for autumn every year to see such coloured trees winter, spring and summer too, i endure to see trees like these and every season, and each day, the weather seems to have a say, in every thing we do.
some fine afternoon i may confess. uneaten berries do not tempt. until i see a little bird eat these and not die i won't touch. not far away i saw a viper surrounded by chattering people, all the way around! it had no escape. i crouched nearby and made a photo. oh, see how smart i am, shooting from feet away! some fine afternoon i may confess. uneaten berries do not tempt. until i see a little bird eat these and not die i won't touch.