And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time
Far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees
Out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach
Of crazy sorrow
Bob Dylan, Mr. Tambourine Man
© 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 and Ivy, https://cloverandivy.wordpress.com.
I post mostly nature photos there.
the nature of january is cold, raw,
it’s bottoming out,
the point of nothingness,
dare we say hopeless,
when there’s nothing left to hold onto but the skeletal remains of what’s eating away at us.
For the parts of us that are out of sync.
For the parts of us that want to sleep. Sleep deep, and out from the grab of reality. Sleep as long as it takes for acceptance to numb perceptions.
I guess the silent hibernation of a hard cold winter will be here soon enough, but there is a glimpse, a blink, a desperate longing, for something quiet to hold onto.
winter shines watery,
like a looking glass,
but not quite,
like looking outside,
through one of those old,
glass window panes,
everything looking glazy,
just a bit off,
swirly and wavy.
Tall oak trees stretch into shadows. Long shadows that sweep all the way down the hill, and across the yard. Giant shadows from towering trees.
The white light of the moon, though, finds its way past the shadows and scatters its magic. Its matte cottony glow blankets the leafy ground, reaches up into the house, and comes to rest on the window sill in front of me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A full moon on a clear winter night, after the trees have dropped their leaves, has its own special charm. One I’ve never captured well in a picture. The ground was so white I thought we had a fresh round of snowfall.