Enjoying nature and photography.
A brief break
to take a breath,
a brake in life
to take a step
back, two steps
onwards,
as soon awaits the biting cold –
so, take your skates,
roll out and trust:
yourself,
and the ice shelf,
through faded sceneries
where bare trees house
jaded starlings
left alone
within the snow,
I am still watching, though,
behind the door,
while the world awaits outside.
Halb acht, die Nacht vorbei, der Tag erwacht, du bist dabei, die Dunkelheit wird weggefegt, Trübsal vergeht wenn man aufsteht mir dir, mein Kopf verdreht von dir, der Alltag lacht dank dir, schier unfassbare Lust zu lieben, leben, hier zu sein, Frust weicht, mir scheint mir gehts ganz gut, mir scheint dir auch – das tut ganz gut, just keine Zeit reicht aus mit dir im Haus, ich glaub durchaus da wird was draus.
Wind whistles harshly from afar, night settles gently, au revoir dear Portugal, dear distant star, each day filled up my memoir with fragments of divided beams, with rock-formations, quite bizarre, with ocean waves and short-lived streams of water flowing as in dreams, a never ending love, it seems, another round, the earth gets drowned, and in the distant is unbound a nightjar calling out his sound; sweet memories still float around.
A tempting shimmer, often bright and sometimes dimmer, tiny twinkles, shiny flickers, mighty seas of jolly glimmer, gently waving in the wind, often aligned, yet intertwined, thin blades on fire, in shades refined, ensnare the mind, tether the eyes, mankind inclined to stay right here, witness the rustling, bustling weeds, small beads pinned by the sun, a moment passes, all is gone.
A little island in the south, well-known by many, word of mouth does travel far. And bizarre houses out of glass are stuffed with greens, do grace the place – in midst the lake – en masse.
When lights are out night sounds appear and overlay the gloss of days, thoughts cross, until a warbler, without fear, sings out his doubt aloud.
Whirling through the empty space, to chase the dream to leave a trace, we lose the reference at times of what's important, how to pace our lives, to live for us, not for archives.
We got lost in a time without bounds, with no home we roamed foreign towns, to begin once again on new grounds, seeking comfort in familiar sounds.
Music, like a home. All pictures shot in-camera by using multiple additive exposures. No post-processing merging, blending, or stacking. All pictures free from AI-creation or -enhancement.
A memory, far far away, like a distant gentle smell, appears and lingers on the soul, as if it was just yesterday that we got lost, nature embossed so soft and mild, we long to dwell, but it’s drowned by present tense, and just leaves subtle wounds – farewell.
Stars enclosed deep in the vale, doubly exposed, a lizards' tail scurries down the winding trail and vanishes – a fairytale.
Punkt im Dunkeln