life, memories, ocean, photo

midnight

I remember the night I took this picture. The sea oats tempted me, and the ocean breeze taunted me. I wanted to see if I could capture something of the magic. The tall sea oak stalks, a soft ivory, bending against the backdrop of the evening sky. When I see this picture now, I see comfy shorts, a baggy cotton tee, vacation hair, and clammy wind. The wood gate swinging open, and a pause to consider if this is a good idea, walking away from the dimly lit planks, down the path to a deserted beach. Stepping away from civilization, alone with the wide stretch of sand and dark ocean. Scary and wonderfully invigorating at the same time. A minute or two when the rest of life was irrelevant. I didn’t wander far, but I tried over and over to catch the stalks in between back and forth. Futile, of course. I couldn’t escape the blur. A little blur for the feel of the ocean breeze. A fair trade.

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etikser

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green, life, personal writing, photo, rural, writing

outside the window

Inside, confined, my seat belt tugging. Cool air moving, touching my face. I turn to the right, to the view outside. A wooden fence that went on forever and lush green grass clover countryside.

A light misty rain.

And a fast moving glimpse of today.

[I wasn’t driving, just aimed and clicked.]

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etikser

green, life, nature, photo, prose, woods, writing

Jumanji

Random, careless. Trunks scattered helter skelter. You can’t help but wonder how it felt here when these tall trees came down. The ground shook, for sure. But look around. Saplings sprouting from felled logs. Leafy vines winding a tangled trail over it all. A beautiful, wild, living, thriving, Jumanji-style, bright green mess.

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etikser

life, personal writing, photo, photography, poem, prose, summer, writing

morning coffee on the back porch

your bothered sigh 
another day

a squeak 
a bang

sliding doors

nearby voices fading far
muffled jumble
meaningless words

engines and brakes 
thumps and car doors
invisible airplane overhead purr

a singular 
dispirited 
gnarling bark 

hums
buzz
someone’s busy outdoor chores

then

quiet
nothing
but wind and birds and bugs silence

til

a swishing  swirl
swiftly spinning  
bicycle wheels

one more sip, your final gulp
sun up sounds
summer’s day waking up

nature, personal writing, photo, prose, writing

day dreaming

So picture this….

Button down shirt, white jeans, bare feet. Surrounded by trees, the sound of birds and trickling water. Looking into Patrick Swayze’s eyes. His voice explaining how he got into dancing. 

He motions to you. Motions for you to join him. Out there, on the limb, over the creek. You think. No…. No…. No way…

Next thing you know, he pulls you up into in his arms. 

Perfect posture, your chin up, elbows raised, toes clinging to the scratchy bark. And then…you’re both smiling. Giggling. Doing goofy, silly, 60’s style dance moves. Forward and then backward. Along that log, over the creek.