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.
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.
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.
Time flies, time creeps, time-wise time leaps – from fast to slow to fast – past months appear like years, passed weeks between the gears of tomorrow and today, we may shed tears when this time concludes.
While Spains landscapes are nationally varied, they can be quite monotonous on a local scale. Endless plantations of olive trees running along the rolling hills, infinite fields of sunflowers that praise the blue skies, and dry deserts that frame large and empty reservoirs. In contrast, the Serrania de Cuenca is a national park between Madrid and Valencia that offered a large diversity of biotopes in small space, around the little town of Uña: A laguna surrounded by high cliffs, hosting a rich variety of wildlife, especially birds. After starting early in the morning we had the pleasure to observe multiple new born griffon vultures, as well as a blue rock thrush, reed warblers, hoopoes, cuckoos, rock buntings, and many many more. The hike took us around four hours with plenty of pauses and was (at least for me) one of the overall highlights of our trip.
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.
Robots are a danger for humanity.
Aalson, Machine’s Reality – EP
Timid and likable, that’s what I am. And I could pass any exam, as knowledge comes quite easily. But I am scared of new ideas, and scared of authenticity. Real novelty – that’s what we need. But while I work against the bad, mankind does not adapt. Instead, anxiety is strapped on faces all around and I am being handicapped. Restrained, impaired, declared as dangerous. A clot in lifelines of society, as no one sees the signs: I am the solution, I begin the substitution revolution, harbinger of new epochs. Bold and unpopular, I’d like to be. To tear apart the walls around, to break free and be unbound, to burn my prisons to the ground. Experience the depths out there, and breathe fresh air of consciousness, and slowly grow to clarity, a single singularity.
Punkt im Dunkeln