thoughts… from the porch…

thoughts… from the porch…

silhouette photo of the ocean
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com

the sky is the portrait of a blaze, moments like these there are colors that are difficult to even explain, like flames of deep reds and purples blending and lurking on the horizon, I might imagine how this all looked as I look back with an ancient eye, clouds, white clouds, like angels racing off to the battle, the blaze, the hordes of the underworld that await, the unearthly glow, for what else could this site be? just some random formation of moisture, a construct of nature, weather conspiring to ignite imagination, why lose the spectacle of this all, indulge in the genesis of how stories unfold and are told in the night sky, but not every night, not every night is the show such as this, not every brilliant magenta hue is seen dancing as the curtains of night unveil,the sprites of streaking white angels dive off into the narrowing event horizon, as that lone beacon rises, only three quarters full but bright as any moon recorded, and before a moment’s breath, the clouds are gone, dipped and passed somewhere out of mortal sight, lost to the lands of kings and gods, seemingly swallowed by the ever motioning night, the grand scheme of color carousel has faded out, just the moon, with a spurious eye, casts light from up on down, a reflection of the sun upon the face, ever looking down from that lonely space, the night watcher compels… sleep.

notes… part of my porch series, the sky just had a certain look, for only a few minutes, I pulled my car over, and the muse planted a seed, and it took, and grew into … this…

the transformative nature of nature (and clouds, at least this occasion)

the transformative nature of nature (and clouds, at least this occasion)

golden hour
Photo by Nur Andi Ravsanjani Gusma on Pexels.com

(music to read by…)

there are some nights where I can just watch the clouds, flowing by like a lazy, winding river through vast swaying grassy plains, slowly pushing – towards the east in procession, yet another part of the sky is more like a river of smoke, shadows of random forms of no form at all, the pace, the pace, the pace is hypnotic, slow but methodic, the only break, breaks are the occasional diamonds and triangles of a solitary bird flight off to some local destination, here and there, but mostly this is all encompassing one long lone exhale, I am gradually forgetting the day, the work, the traffic, it is all dropping off somewhere behind me, as I stare, and contemplate – the very air, the atmosphere itself, letting enough space in the space between my molecules, my atoms expanding and rising until I am that loose connection of clouds, slowly, calmly, meandering, wandering across that evening sky, sliding up over like a blanket being tucked for a child’s lullaby, before the sleep, I’m at ease, floating freely, loosely, high above the grandest trees, as a cloud, a river of gas of varying degrees, I’m at peace, I am part of the world no matter how small a piece, I am at peace.

this is part of my porch series… just sit out on the porch and let things flow… barefoot in shorts these days as the weather has been a friend… tonight’s musical selection (linked earlier) is Eric Johnson – Arithmetic,  a mellow tune, a nice sentiment, fit my mood…

as always, your thoughts, insults, barbs, thanks, likes, suggestions, they are all welcome, I take requests… whatever that means… (I guess I will hash that out when a request comes in….)

The mystique of a boutique airport.

The mystique of a boutique airport.

Teterboro airport… in North New Jersey… I thought it looked cool tonight so I pulled over and took a couple of pics.. I’m a writer, a poet, not a shutterbug, so forgive me you professionals out there… Although I dig the framing I did (on purpose, I swear) on pic 3 with that little utility house thing)… I wrote a poem about this airport (well, driving by it all the friggin time)… you can see the crossroads sign that references rt 46… road signs are a sure sign of a particular country, something we take for granted… think about it… even here by me we have great diversity in street signs town to town (how about by you?)… someone should write a blog about such things.. but what do I know….