touched
by the hand
of god
the breath of zeus
drips like honey
covered
in drops
of lustful embrace
forever flowing
with the waters
of growth that
imbue permeate saturate
lay me down
and let me dissipate
between the wet leaves
I woke up this morning to find the world drenched in small droplets, the misty world of dreams became a reality. It is the start of the winter, autumn, and the changing seasons bring with them the breath and touch of the gods. Transforming the world into a wonderland, everything is imbued and saturated with a sigh after the long summer and the blasting heat. The birds puffed up, the cold air clean and crisp, and the millions of small droplets signal a change, an always constant in the natural world.
I grabbed my camera, like so many other times, and I ventured deeper into this wonderland.
The fresh air cleaned my cluttered mind, I could breathe anew with fresh insights into problems that remained cut off from my over-rational mind. The droplets watered the roots of my thoughts and they sprung forward with new life. They grew in every possible direction, covering the by-now barren land of my thoughts; I was imbued with growth, potential, new life, meaning, and beauty. Everything seemed possible.
The birds continued with their song, but there was something different to the notes. It moved through the misty air, adding another layer of meaning. It was almost like the sounds were covered in a breath that added something more to it, something else.
There was more to the sound than just the sound itself. The misty morning covered even the very sounds that always reverberated through the garden.
new growth
covered in her honey
i smell the clarity
in the air
i begin to search
anew
for any meaning
that might grow
without direction
The misty mornings carry with them the possibility of growth, of new beginnings, of something extra that was not there beforehand. Now, saturated with potential, impregnated with possibilities, I an approach life with a novel perspective, not necessarily as I would see life "for the first time", but one imbued with all that I already experienced. The mist acts as an extra layer of meaning, one that provides me with more possibilities.
The misty mornings are rare. But when they arrive we know the winter is on the horizon. It is cold, but it cleans the air. It is wet, but the plants regrow what they lost in the extreme summer heat. The deciduous trees are naked with their fingers trying to touch the clouds. The wonderworld is even filled with these barren sculptures, but soon they will also regrow.
For now, enjoy these photographs with me. Keep well, and happy photographing.
All of the musings and thoughts are my own. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom/macro lens and 50mm Nikkor lens.
