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The wind swept landscape of Beluga Point. This is an older picture from a few years ago. I really liked this one because of how the wind has blown the snow away creating leading lines in the direction of the gorgeous sunrise.
As much as the reds and golds of New England's autumn forests, there's something in the cold north wind off the frothing seas of the North Carolina coast that says winter is coming.
Isaiah 64:6: “But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteous deeds are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.”
I feel it, I hear it. The wind.
It rushes on me, pushes and presses on me.
It swirls around me in a whirlwind.
Making me fly or bowling me over.
It’s music to my ears or deadly for my fears.
Softly refreshing or scarily shrieking.
Spirits, soothing and lifting on hot days.
Black ghosts, cold and grabbing by night
It’s ugly and angry in a terrible tempest.
But, so teasing in a beauty’s wild hair nest
It’s blowing now in my mind,
My dreamcatcher dancing to a tune.
So strong the wind is spinning my cogs
In a great windmill with sails that speed
In the breeze, the gale, the storm and more
This romance with the wind……..
fast, slow, good, bad, strong and powerful
Influences how I flow, and go, and even blow
The wind gives me wings to fly and to flee
And forever to dream and wonder what might be.
PS. I was crap at poetry at school. 50 years later not much has changed! More random thoughts! But it doesn't matter. Not many people will read it!
The world asks us to keep moving.
To answer every notification, meet every expectation, and hurry toward whatever comes next.
Yet every now and then, life offers an unplanned interruption.
A breath.
A gust of wind.
A moment with closed eyes while the crowd continues around us.
Nothing about the scene changes, yet everything feels different. We remember that peace is rarely found by escaping the world. More often, it is discovered in learning to stand quietly within it.
Perhaps contentment is not another destination to reach.
Perhaps it is simply recognizing the grace already present in the ordinary.
Windmills at Livermore
Life is the fire that burns and the sun that gives light. Life is the wind and the rain and thunder in the sky. Life is matter and is earth, what is and what is not and what beyond is in eternity.
©Srinivasa RK Punnamraju 2015 All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer
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Taken from Waterloo Lane, Kingsley, during a daily exercise last year.
A break from trains, and I like the clean lines offered. I also thought the pylons brought a dose of northern realism, so opted not to clone them out.
iPhoneSE
4th March 2021
I like when the wind tries to push back the apex of breaking waves. It never wins but keeps on trying.
Tomorrow the All Blacks will try to defeat the mighty Lions - the best rugby players of Britain and Ireland with over 60 million population against NZ 4.6 million. We don't tempt fate by claiming we will win, kiwis are cautious :)
Taken @ 80Days - WIND RIVER
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