Three Word Thursday #12

Sorry for being AWOL for a while. All is well but I've been busy with different things that sucked up most of my energy, hence my modest offering for the week.


The new history teacher turned out to be a sullen man in his late 50s, intransigent in his conviction that the kids should learn all the facts by heart without any questions asked. He considered himself a paladin of truth and justice but everybody else saw him as an antediluvian zoilist. He appeared to particularly dislike Timmy for his inqusitive mind, and treated him in an invidious manner whenever an opportunity arised, which happened all too often. Timmy loved history and was eager to learn as mcuh as he could but nothing he ever did seemed good enough for he new teacher and the boy was beginning to feel desperate.

Splosh (and stuff)

I've had a couple of busy days in the familial field so apologies for not being around much. Normal service should resume as soon as I get some decent sleep.

Diamonds on my windshield

This morning, trying to find something positive in yet another rainy day...




And, well, although I suppose this gentleman is not anybody's cup of tea I simply have to add this (not the best version but...)

	Tom Waits - 04 - Diamonds on My Windshield
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

...

Not in the mood for words tonight so you're getting some flowers instead. I need some colour after another utterly dismal day with that most depressing grey sky and neverending rain.

Three Word Thursday #11

Apart from a few curios events Timmy was a normal boy, doing what most nine-year-olds do: go to school and play, do his homework and help mum, and in the evenings he would close himself in his room, listening to music and reading all kinds of stuff. The parchments ceased to interest him after what had happened with the potion. They were written in antediluvian language which was very difficult to understand so he left them in their hiding place for the time being. He also vaguely remembered the dream but wasn't sure what to make of it. He considered discussing it with Billy, his bestest buddy, but couldn't make himself bring up the subject.

One day, after school, the boys lingered in the yard, talking about the latest news. They were upset and a little saddened as their history teacher had just announced she would be leaving school in a few days. She hadn't provided any further information but confirmed her departure was ineluctable. When one of the boys asked if she was going to have a baby, she smiled mysteriously but refused to comment. The boys liked her classes as her lectures were interesting and not at all prolix, and she was able to animate them so they acquired the knowledge with ease and were eager to learn more. They wondered what the replacement teacher would be like.

A nod to Poetic Asides and some bragging (sorry)

No, I have no intention of joining the Poem A Day challenge but I just thought I'd share with you a haiku because I don't think I have posted it anywhere in the webs before. Well, I did submit it on-line to a haiku contest in Japan (Kusamakura) in 2005 when I was a complete novice in the art of haiku. And, imagine my surprise when in the late autumn that year I received a letter from Japan notifying me that my haiku had won second prize (as one of the 8 selected) in the contest, thus earning a certificate and 5000 yen (I still keep the banknote).

Here it is:

ripening wheat
through fast moving wipers
a rainbow

The imagery is a reflection of what I actually experienced one late afternoon driving home from a tournament of boules. I think I would have written the haiku differently today but it likely wouldn't impress the Japanese judges. But who knows?

Will you walk into my parlour?

Nature's ways may not always be pretty although there is a certain beauty in death also, as the photo above demonstrates. And there are predators just as fierce in the micro world as there are on the main stage.

A crab spider doesn't make webs but lurks hidden in a blossom instead for an unexpected passer by - usually a gnat, a fly, a bee or another flying insect. It strikes with lightning speed and injects the venom, paralysing the victim which becomes the spider's lunch before realising what hit it.

April vagaries

The unpredictable April weather makes it difficult to determine the destination for a trip.
Today we took a route different from the ordinary and ended up on a hill which, allegedly, is a place with powerful energy. An ancient shrine used to stand on top, as the word has it, but, as in so many other cases, a catholic church was built on its groundings. As we arrived, the sky had been closing and a cold breeze blowed across the slopes. There were signs of showers in the vicinity. Still, I climbed toward the top of the hill, admiring the flowers and greening trees as I went. A few gnats were dipping into dandelions, a bumblebee hummed around the dog violets. But as I approached the summit, I was stunned by the sight. A number of swallowtail butterflies flitted around the top, swirling, fluttering, pausing on the blossoms, then flitting away. They were all camera shy, though, and wouldn't let me take a decent photo. Then I passed between the church and the small stone wall surrounding it. And there, on the gravel, was another butterfly, flapping its wings but not moving anywhere. As I approached, the camera at the ready, it paused and let me take a few photos. Then I tried to move it from the ground onto the wall and it still didn't fly away. I was beginning to fear something was wrong with it but it looked perfectly formed without any visible injuries. It let me take another set of photos on the wall. I couldn't help but thank it and wish it well, and as soon as I did so in my mind, it lifted off the wall and fluttered into the sky. And meanwhile, the rain had moved to other places.

I'll follow the sun

Showers followed by sunshine... such is April. The sun is always welcome,though, even if you're a wood anemone.

Three Word Thursday #10

A few nights after the potion incident, on the night of the full moon, Timmy had a most peculiar dream.

He saw a lush verdant meadow speckled with all kinds of colourful flowers. He had never seen a meadow so beautiful before. Then, a movement on the far side: translucent silhouettes, almost like feathers wafting on a breeze, caught his attention. As the specious silhouettes approached, they took on a form of three beautiful maids in iridescent robes, all looking alike but each wearing a distinctive garland of flowers in her hair: daisies, buttercups, and violets. As they approached, Timmy could hear them singing, and what he heard was no short of isangelous. Suddenly the song ceased and the maids seated themselves in the shade of what would look like the back side of the old barn, the one where he had spilt the potion, were this one not brand new and painted in a delightful shade of chartreuse.

"Sisters," said Daisy who appeared the senior. "We need to pay attention. Our secrets are leaking. Some of our ancient knowledge appears to have ended up with humans again."

"But... our elders already shared the knowledge with some humans..." said Violet.

"True. We tried to live in comity with the human race but it never amounted to any good. Their interests were always so, so... sublunary. They just don't understand... " She paused a moment before continuing: "Some humans were different, though. And among those our elders selected the Keepers who were then trusted with the parchments. And they were to pass them on only to those who deserved to be trusted. Most of the parchments got lost over time... after all, humans' lives are so much shorter than ours, and the few remaining ones are well cared for. Still, it happens once in a while that something unexpected emerges, just the way it happened with the boy."

"Is he still in possession of the parchments?" asked Buttercup.

"So it seems. He stored them at the bottom of his cupboard after the incident and I think they are safe at the moment. I think he won't touch them for a while. In any case, he had better leave them alone for the time being. But this was a close one. He almost got it right. All he needed to do to make the potion work was adding a few drops of his own sweat. It would have a different effect from what he expected, though. Yes, we have to keep an eye on him lest he tries something else."

"He is such a perspicacious boy," Violet intervened, "Is it possible that he is one of the chosen?"

"Could well be. We shall see very soon. As we speak, I'm projecting the images of our meeting into his dream. If he wakes up and remembers, there's a good chance he is the One. Then it all depends on how he reacts to the revelation. We shall meet again on the night of the next full moon to reflect on the progress and discuss some other important issues. Now, sisters, it's time to..."

"... wake up, will you! Timmy!!! What's the matter with you? Get up and get ready for school! Cm'on, Timmy, don't play with me like this! Timmy?"

It took Timmy a while to realise this was no longer a dream and his mother was bending over him, agitated. He opened his eyes, gave mother a hug and said, "It's ok, mum, I'm fine. Just had a weird dream. Will be ready in a few minutes..." And, as usual, he hopped to the bathroom, humming.

Just rambling

Sometimes it happens that I take a photo without knowing why. When I download it, I don't like it and perhaps even contemplate deleting it. Then, if it passes the deleting stage, I try a different approach, like cropping in various ways and frames. Occasionally, that improves the pic in my eyes.

The photo above is one such case. I'm not sure exactly why I took it. The initial frame was vertical but it didn't work so I almost deleted the whole picture. Then, for some reason, I tried to crop it as you can see and still wasn't exactly thrilled about it. The blossoming branches are a bit of a mess and I wasn't sure about the window in soft focus. But the more I looked at the pic, the more it appealed to me although I can't say why. So I decided to share it although I still don't know why...

Busy bee

Only a good week ago the growth was way behind schedule but a week of incredibly sunny and warm weather pushed things forward with an amazing speed. Plum blossoms came and went in just a few days, the forests are turning green almost by the hour, and the bees are busy collecting nectar and pollinating cherry blossoms...

Big wheel keep on turning...

Deep in the forest is a small stream. And on that stream people have put up and maintained miniature turbines for a number of years. They are merely toys but some are work of art.

old watermill
a butterfly alights
on a mossy turbine

The stride of spring

Verdant

Only a few days ago these trees were completely bare. But a few sunny and extraordinarily warm April days can do wonders. Alas, the plum blossoms are already losing their petals, and less than a week ago there was not a bud to be seen. Just can't have it all...

Three Word Thursday #9

"Timmy! Come here, will you please? Now!"

The tone of mother's voice told Timmy he had better obey, and fast. He carefully folded the papers he had been studying and tucked them under the pillow. Then he sped downstairs into the kitchen from where mother's voice had come.

"Just what is this jussulent stuff in this crooked old pot? And what was it doing in my lardor?"

Timmy glanced at mother's tenebrous brow, then lowered his looks and fidgeted uncomfortably but no words came from his mouth.

"Another potion? Been reading that wizardy nonsense again? How many times do I have to tell you there is no such thing as magic and wizards only exist in tales! I wish you were so ebullient about school as you are about those silly old parchments the great grandmother had kept in her chest."

"They are called anopistographs, and..." Timmy started, but then decided it best to shut up.

"I don't care what they are called. If I ever find anything strange in the house again, you will get rid of them all! Now go and do your homework! But first get this hitonious broth out of my sight and don't even think of trying to hide it from me!"

Timmy sighed, carefully lifted the pot with its content and staggered through the door toward the backyard, taking care not to spill a drop. If his plan worked, he would never have to do another homework again. But the magic would have to wait for a better occasion. Or, maybe... He proceeded through the yard and paused by the barn where he put his cargo down to rest and think. Down by the brook, just a mile away, was a cavern hidden from the sight of the uninitiated. He and his cousin had discovered it a couple of summers ago and spent many a happy hour there, plotting all kinds of adventures. His cousin had gone back to the city but he could use their hiding place.

As he stood up, determined to carry out his plan, he accidentally knocked over the ragged old pot. He watched in horror as it hit a stone, shattered to pieces and its content spilt across the ground and over his tattered tennis shoes. Only a good half an hour later, when nothing happened, did he dare to move. He descended to the brook to wash the broth from the shoes and ran home. There he threw himself on the bed, sobbing. His mother might be right after all, and there is no way to avoid the tedious homework.

A haiku

dog tooth violet (erithronium dens-canis)


trying to capture
the perfect angle -
mud on my knees


(and still, i'm less than happy with the way the shot turned out)

A T-shirt day

Only a few days ago winter gear and waterproof footwear was required for any outdoor activity. It was cold and wintry and pouring with rain.

Today, however, we finally got some sunshine and a warm spring day. In fact, too warm for the season, although I won't complain about having to take off all the clothing other than jeans and a T-shirt for the first time this year. In the morning the tiny plum tree in the neighbourhood sported nothing but bare branches. At the end of the day half of those branches were covered in tiny white blossoms.

The bees are active, as are the ants, an occasional butterfly flutters by, the underbrush is plush with early spring blossoms, green is sprouting everywhere...

Ah, the miracle of spring!

Bug alert or An afternoon photo session with an unexpected visitor

So, the rain has finally stopped although we're still seeing very little blue sky. That, however, didn't stop one beetle to touch down in the middle of my just awakened lavender. The minuscule knight in a shiny chitinous armour gallantly allowed me to shoot him from every attainable angle.

Some of the results of that photo session can be seen in the following collage. Enjoy (or not).

Friday Quivel (sort of)

there are no words

known to humankind

able to express

the complete and utter

disgust

i feel

at the weather

we've been getting for

what seems

forever

clouds and rain

mist and snow

more clouds

more rain

more...

where is the sun?

the blue sky?

not here... not ever more, it seems

teterrimous
hitonious...

strong words

but not nearly

strong enough

for what i feel

now, don't get me wrong

i quite enjoy

the gentle susurrus

of rain upon

ebullient young leaves

i don't mind

a passing cloud

a shower even, or a thunderstorm

but all we get

is grey and more grey

tenebrous sky

and water pouring down
whichever way you can imagine

no sun

no azure...

just the blues

***

i wonder

how the first organic matter

in the jussulent primeval sea

came to be

what they felt

those very first organisms

floating merrily

transforming one thing

into another

or maybe

swallowing

each other...

are we any different?

Three Word Thursday #8

following on from here and here

"Wha... where am I?" The thought pierced Sybil's mind. She wasn't feeling well. Through the haze surrounding her thoughts she could hear a soft susurrus of a conversation in the propinquity. As her mind became clearer, she could hear two hushed male voices but couldn't distinguish the words. She tried to move but her body was hurting and all she could muster was a slight tremble of her eyelids so she gave up the effort. She concentrated on the voices instead.

"Did you see?" she could hear the first voice in a slightly excited pitch and tried to figure out whose it was. "Her eyelids moved!" There was no mistake - the voice was her father's.

"Yes, for a moment it seemed so... oh how I wish it were true! But it can't be... the doctors said she wouldn't be awake for at least another day, and even then..." She could feel her heart beat stronger. This voice belonged to the man she loved.

"The doctors can be wrong, can't they! And Sybil is a strong girl."

"She sure is. The way she infiltrated into their lines was worthy of admiration. The sex affair was her idea and she carried it out to perfection, thus gaining their trust and the access to the most confidential information. We couldn't have made it without her. Oh, and your help, of course. Publishing the story was an important part of the operation."

"And to think how she kept me in nescience all the while. I'm glad you stopped using that pipe, though."

"I hated the thing almost as much as that ancient typewriter. But it was part of the plan so I put up with it. Even you believed I was what I pretended to be: a grumpy old man revelling in other people's misery. And as such I didn't pose a threat to the drug cartel bosses, or so they thought."

"We all misjudged you big time. Your computer savvy is awesome, and once you and Sybil had gathered enough incriminating evidence, it was easy to send in th cavalry and do away with the bad guys. Nobody could have predicted they would leave a bomb in their headquartes."

"Well, Sybil did, and it almost cost her life. But many men could have died if she hadn't rushed them out of the building. She was the last to leave, and the blast hit her on the way out. It's almost a miracle she wasn't crushed by its force. The concussion is no laughing matter, though, but the doctors say she's going to make it. I want to tell you something, and I hope you'll consent. We've been talking about quitting the job after this operation and the Agency has agreed. I want to marry her as soon as she's well enough and..."

At that moment Sybil's eyes sprung open and a faint smile spread over her face.

***

the hostess of TWT is the awesome quilly

Rain rain go away... and stuff

Oh well, this nursery rhyme keeps coming to mind lately. Any guesses as to why this should be the case? (no need to answer that; after all it's too easy, much easier than quilly's Punny Mondays anyway)

Anycaugh, I'm feeling better if still tremendously low on energy and having to work doesn't exactly help.

Apologies to everyone for not being able to visit this last week. Will try to make up for that in the following days.

Three Word Thursday is scheduled for midnight GMT. I'm not too pleased with what I came out with this time but... well, it will have to do.