Enjoying nature and photography.
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.
Bellende Hunde jede Stunde, von Sekunde zu Sekunde reist der Geist von wach zu schlaf. Zu wach: Ein lauter Krach, der Nachbar schließt laut seine Tür – ohne jegliches Gespür. Ich mach das Dach zu und lieg flach im schwülen Bus, jetzt fehlt frischer Luft-Zufluss: Fenster auf zum Kühlen. Schluss, jetzt wird tief geschlummert. Endlich leise, zeitweise. Vögel singen, paarweise, Ton-Gebilde in die Nacht. Milde Luft bringt feinen Duft von Regen rein, von wegen kein Wasser, es tropft und strömt, wir sind verwöhnt von einsamer Natur; pur, rund um die Uhr. Und in der Ferne helle Sterne, eine einzelne Laterne leuchtet mitten ins Gesicht, ihr Licht durchbricht die dunkle Nacht, unangebracht. Feine Glocken von drei Schafen, Wellen im entfernten Hafen – wir schlummern ein, so gut es geht, bevor der nächste Tag ansteht.
A timid giant rides the wind, ill-famed and often framed as ravenous, yet kind inside, enchants mankind, dwells unconfined, a gust of wind below his wings, a king of kings, untamed and wild.
Do you remember the first time you heard your favorite album? The first time you fell in love with someone special? Or the last time you were fully enchanted by the inimitable beauty of nature? I, for the first time, saw one of the largest birds in Europe – the griffon vulture. And ever since, I can’t get enough.
Missed opportunities amidst routines, thoughts caught by obtrusive screens – for laziness we stride for now, hide from duties, disallow old habits to creep in, begin a time with generosity, a life without velocity.
Orange beaks pass through the snow in search for food they plough the empty meadow, search for food, slow, graceful steps, fierce attitude.
A glimpse of time that passes by, down at the river, here I lie. Startled starlings high above. Each second fleeting, why are we longing for the neat deceit of endless time, eternity?
Trees shifted by a gentle breeze of grace, at ease the silent world around, clouds drifting by, unbound and free, three cranes agree with distant calls: a potpourri of nature's soul.
Spring music; played by little bells in white, a well of warmth despite cold air. Each year they do appear, to persevere where orange-colored skies collide.
Light flows through the leaves deep shadows hide beneath: A lonely flower blooms and shines, the only one, and it declines as soon as signs of spring disperse, and winter reigns again.
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