I drive along country roads in autumn;

warm,

vibrant,

coloured leaves fall from the trees,

dancing,

twirling around the top of the car in front,

and swirling in a mini hurricane that I drive through unseen.

 

Waking up on a Saturday morning in my own bed,

not hungover,

and realising I don’t have to work till Monday –

I eat, toilet and crawl back into my dreams.

 

I watch the sun set over the city from a bedroom window,

shafts of piercing sunlight,

highlight,

the miniature tornadoes of bugs,

hovering yet circling,

from the heights of the buildings down to the street –

formerly invisible, discreet.

 

The awkward moment when I have to put on a show,

that everyone believes is truth,

but that I know,

is just another face of my many;

and the butterflies keep whirling,

the excitement,

the adrenaline.

 

The look on a baby’s face when it’s all scrunched up from crying,

and how it changes bit by bit,

from the chin up,

when you make that little face smile again.

 

Breathing in the scent of a man,

as I lean into him,

my arms entwined

around his strong forearm,

surrounded by the masses,

as we stroll through the drizzly,

vibrant night streets of London.

 

Listening to music while on a journey,

loudly,

and hearing the full song to the end when I’ve already switched off the engine,

some time ago.

 

Reading a book that makes me laugh,

or cry,

or get angry,

or any of the aforementioned combination;

or simply enlightens me,

helps me escape to worlds of wonder,

and detachment.

 

Walking out of an office building in winter,

it’s already dark –

but taking comfort when I look up,

and see a blanket

of stars,

pinpricks in thick dark blue velvet.

 

Waiting to catch a bus or a train,

in the early morning hours,

when it’s frosty out –

I’m all wrapped up warm,

cosey hat and scarf up to my bottom lip,

I see my breath come out in playful swirls,

then dissipate.

 

Going for a walk on a crisp winter morning,

just as the sun is rising,

its rays strike the stark empty branches of a tree,

dividing through them,

to bounce off the sparkling dew-crystallised grass below,

on the other side.

 

The sound of waves as they lap gently

against a moon-drenched shore,

the wind a veritable friend

chasing the waves

cooling the heat of my skin

as I sit there silently,

watching,

listening.

 

Springtime in a forest,

the sounds of the birds,

the light of the sun streaming through the tree tops

the baby green of the plant life

erupting all around you.

 

Laughing,

laughing a lot

and even at the wrong moments –

but it’s good for my soul

and those around me,

so why stop being a wee bit silly?

 

I love these moments… and so many more.

 

 

Written and photographic content is ©

All rights are reserved. October 2016.

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