My Name is ZING and I need to talk.
Not about anything in particular, just words, just to see them appear on the page, just to watch the flow of consciousness.
Just to see what I have to say.
This blog has become a record of the emotional landscape of my life.
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Early morning, the soft pink light casts descriptive shadows. Contoured limbs become feathery branches brushing the watery pale blue sky. Behind them, the ghost of the full moon patiently waits as the Sun rises.
"Man is nature as much as the trees."...
A fine mist drapes the treetops, wrapping the scene beyond my window. Still air and strange light highlights the intricately patterned lichen, modern art on twisting ancient branches. The yellow of the blackbirds beak shines like a tiny golden sun on...
Reflective droplets of water dangle from the twisted branches. Light filled and liquid, they endure. The distant tree is roost to eight plump woodpigeons, feather fluffed against the cold. A robin lands and a water bauble falls, a solitary raindrop...
I can sense Winter approaching. Bare branches scratched onto the opaque sky. A certain quality of light that talks of colder times and gently whispers of sprinkling fine white powder to highlight natures bare bones. I can smell it on the breath of...
Neighbours leave freshly dug vegetables on our doorstep, the compost bin we gave them will help in next years crop. Root vegetables chopped in chunks ready for a dinnertime stew. The beautiful trees sway against the clear blue sky. Birds queue on the...