Tag Archive | writing

Journal Entry #310

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“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.” ~Plutarch~

 

The restoration. Using fire to recover from fire. Irony at its finest.

Fire destroyed parts of this land and now it is being used to purify for new growth. I find that fascinating.  That we use fire to both destroy and to purify.  I also have to admit that I kind of love that fact.  I’ve always had a soft spot for fire.  Not in a pyromaniac kind of way, but in a wow, fire is amazing” kind of way.   Hmm…now I think about that, I guess that is exactly the kind of thing that a pyromaniac would say.

Seriously, though….fire.  That is something. I have a thing for powerful things that can be destructive and beautiful at the same time.  Maybe it is because fire is my element sign.  I mean, if you are into that kind of thing.

I was born in November and my element sign is fire.  According to most sites, this means that I have a fiery temper…that’s fair.  Lively wit….truth.  And a quick intelligence…Seems accurate.  It also says that I’m creative and spirited, but to be forewarned when I am hot-tempered.  Truth be told, I can’t argue with any of it really.

I also like the smell of fire.  There is something about the smell of burning wood.  Bonfires. Forest fires.  Hmm….maybe I am a pyromaniac.  That could explain why I’m constantly burning cupcakes, but those do not smell near as good as burning wood.  Burning wood. Is that a song?  It should probably be a song.

Actually, I can’t possibly be a pyromaniac.  I can’t even get a campfire started.  I mean, like seriously.   I can’t even catch charcoal on fire. I’m clearly doing something wrong.  I like trees. Why would I want to catch them on fire. I wouldn’t be able to hug them or cling on to them, when I wear out after that 1.25 miles of a steep incline hike.  Nope, that’s it.  I renounce my pyromaniac tendencies.  Accept for catching cupcakes on fire.  Until I get use to my oven and baking again, I’ll probably continue to do that.

I’ll save the bonfires and campfires for my friends to start for me.  It’d be my luck, I’d just catch myself on fire anyway.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

Journal Entry #255

 

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I sit upon a rock, just staring into the blueness of a sky. I bunch on my trail mix. I feel eyes upon me. I look around, but see no one and yet the the holes are burning through me.

I hear tiny little pebbles shuffle and look down, a chipmunk scurries off behind a rock. I go back to my trail mix. The eyes are back.

I look in the direction of the new burning hole, He stands and stares. I dig through the fruits and nuts, and throw a peanut in his direction….he doesn’t take the bait and scurries off again.

I know that I should not feed him. He’s a chipmunk. An animal. A “wild” animal. I should feel threatened by him, I’m sure. With his beady little eyes and puffy little tail. Those tiny little claws. Those are the ones that you have to watch out for. The cheeky little monkeys.

He’s back. Staring at the nut. He looks around, but not in my direction. He takes the nut and runs off behind a far rock. No thank you, no nothing. Cheeky little monkey.

I toss another nut in his direction. A bit closer this time. Not on purpose, but it works. He runs up and a test it. I guess to ensure that it is good enough to take. He munches a bit and then takes it to his hole in the rocks.

I wonder if he has a little chipmunk crew waiting back there. Maybe it is the chipmunk SOA and he is the prospect. In charge of running all the errands and collecting all the food. Checking out the humans to figure out which will feed them and which will run. They’re all sitting around a table with the president of the club. A real Clay Marrow type.

I know I shouldn’t throw another nut. Shame on me, but what’s he going to do. Attack my face. Someone will say yes, but he’s more scared of me. I don’t know where he is anyway. Probably at a meeting. Plotting their next job.

I can’t resist. I toss the nut. He doesn’t see it. I toss another one. Now there are two. Prospect brought a friend. This one looks like Jax. Scoping out the new lead. I will call him Jax. Maybe I should call the other one Opie. Jax and Opie. They discovered both nuts and left. Greedy little guys.

Wait, he’s back. A few feet next to me on the same rock. There’s two now. The little chipmunk is back. Closer now. He’s not the rock next to me. Staring at my bag of trail mix. Now there are eyes on the other side. His buddy is back too. They’re surrounding me. Maybe I really should be scared of this little mini motorcycle crew.

Nah. I doubt it. The wind blew and shifted the edge of my shirt. They took off running and now it is time for me to go.

~2018 SMH~

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Ode to the Woodpecker

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Oh, Mr. Woodpecker
I hear you
Hiding in the woods
Pecking away on your chosen one

You’re somewhere nearby
I look for you
Your pecking stops
You’re nowhere to be found
I continue on

It starts again
That alluring calling
Sound of your beak
Tearing away on wood

It taunts me
Teasing me
Peck, peck, peck
100 beats per sec

I swear you moved
Your peckings
They are in my ear
I look again
Still see you I do not
I move on

Your pecking follows me
Closer than before
I try to ignore you
Your game of hide and seek

It’s a game you usually win
I know I will not find you
Yet your pecking persist
It becomes hard to resist

I stop
You stop
I look
There you are

You look
You fly away
Your wings almost smile
It’s like a joke

I roll my eyes
Another picture lost
Silly bird
I knew better than to try
I move on

There’s your pecking again
In front of me
Beside me
You’ve called upon friends
And now its everywhere

Pecking echos around me
But yours was distinct
Your little call
Taunting me from behind

Figures that is where it would be
The direction from which I came
I look
It’s only you I see

Off in the distance
Too high
Too far
Too late

You look at me
I look at you
A second passes by
You go back to pecking away

I hear that
Your Woody Woodpecker laugh
You know I am not coming back
You’ve won the round
And you let it be known

With every chipped piece of wood
Every peck in my ear
You tease me with your pecking call
Just mocking me as I walk away

Well played, Mr. Woodpecker
Well played

2018 ~SMH~

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

The Path I Started….

DSC_9315.jpgAfter careful thought and consideration, I’m keeping Montana Rose Photography.  I thank you everyone that weighed in and advised.  You all are rock stars.

This path above. I started it, but I did not finish it.  This little trail is in Kentucky and I ended up driving ridiculously far to get there.  On a whim.  It was about three hours further than my original destination.  My original destination that was already a three hour drive, if that tells you anything.

With that said, I didn’t get there until late in the afternoon and since it’s winter…there were only a few hours of daylight left and it was fading fast, so a few hours was generous.  And by the time that I found this trail…I was already down to like and hour.  This trail was longer than a hour’s walk.  So, it didn’t get finished.  Maybe someday, but probably not.

I will most likely got back but to the opposite end of the forest.  There is a gorge and I didn’t realize that they were in two different areas and it was too far to drive and still have daylight.  Next time.

As for the picture, it is altered. The light was low to almost non-existent. I was surrounded by trees with leaves so even less light. I was tired. The pictures was boring. The leaves were mainly brown and dying. The tree trunks were wreaking of melancholy, so I filtered it. I enhanced colors.  I did what I do and created an pictures that I didn’t hate to look at.  One that may inspire a story or two or a poem somewhere down line.  For now, it is just a post. Just a picture.  One I hope that you like

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography