Tag: spring

spring

today’s outlook

etikser
This is a photo I’ve taken dozens of times.
It’s the closest I can get to what I’m describing.

It’s a little like when you glance downstairs late at night, and everything is dark. Everything in your full vision, everything that’s both central and peripheral, everything that’s in your soul, it’s all whispers and dark shadows. Dark as the night.

Except that now everything is dazzling bright, and green as a spring day. A full, mature, all-encompassing spring. When I sit at my computer these days and look out over the top of the monitor to what’s outdoors…everything’s the look of spring green. It’s mottled, of course, not one page of flat green construction paper. Patches of dark and bright, and everything in between, shimmering in the breeze. It’s a vision chock-full of spring.

It reminds me of that warm summer day when I went down by the stream, and the water was shining in my eyes in full reflection mode, mirroring the neon dreamy color of all the surrounding shrubs and trees. It reminds me of the time I stood under a weeping willow tree and looked up for comfort to the leafy green strands cascading towards me. A full vision, packed with the wondrous embrace of eternity.

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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.
Please visit my other blog, Clover & Ivy, https://cloverandivy.wordpress.com.
I post mostly nature photos there.

yellow

happy spring!

etikser
yellows at their best – brilliant forsythias herald the beginning of spring


___________________
© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.
Please visit my other blog, Clover & Ivy, https://cloverandivy.wordpress.com.
I post mostly nature photos there.

2022

patterns

etikser

The pasty smell of drywall and paint…tell-tale leftovers from the morning’s work.

Sheer curtains scarcely move at the open window, not enough to call it a flutter. And the afternoon sun floats columns of dark and light about the architecture of the panes and the surface of a half-drawn shade. Plaids, squares, rectangles.

The air works a gentle song from the chimes outside. A soft musical chant. I hear children down the street, and a distant car engine. Repetitious drumming, the tap, tap, tap, of a small animal.

There’s covid and war and the contradiction of what should feel normal in spring. Reactions feel confused and hollow. Optimistic/pessimistic/oppressive. Unworthy of a sunny beginning-of-spring afternoon.