Tagged: travel

Poems from the Vault – Daydreaming.

Have you ever looked up at a passing plane and wondered where it’s headed?  Me too.  Here’s a little word painting about the subject.  Hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading.

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SnowPorn.

Spectacular views.  That about sums it up for this week’s space.  I’m almost tempted to close it up with that…but not yet.  The enormity of the floor to ceiling glass beautifully exposes the sheer immensity of the mountains crawling up the surrounding countryside.  Views like that just tend to put every single thing into perspective.  Ok, now I’m finished….take a moment to enjoy the view.  Let the daydreams commence

Light your fire, grab your coffee (or wine), snag your book…and cozy up to the warmth of this week’s great wintry space.

Poems from the Vault – Exploration.

Take a read if you wish.  The world is mapped and explored, but so much is waiting to be discovered within each and every one of us.  Self discovery is an adventure just as entertaining as anything we’d see in an Indiana Jones movie.  It’s a whole other world entirely, and it’s worthy of our attention.  Stay creative.







Storytime Saturday, featuring an excerpt from an as yet unnamed tale.

Grab a drink, post up in a chair, and take a few minutes to dig into this little story snippet.  Thanks for reading; let me know what you think.  Stay creative.

     At long last, it appeared as though they were nearing their destination; the deeper they got, the more the forest seemed to close in tightly around them, and the unmistakable rustle of the oversized jungle leaves grew nearer. Up ahead, the driver finally made the decision to ease up on the gas, and the bus began to slow its pace as the road began to narrow. His heart began to race at the anticipation of what existed outside the comfort of the bus, and as this was his first international assignment, he was eager to get his feet wet and explore.  
     The bus’ brakes began to squeal loudly as it came to a slow stop. They were approaching a large clearing, surrounded by the intensely rich green of the surrounding jungle. The air began to surge in through the windows, and with a shudder, the bus came to a complete halt. He glanced around the bus, and all within were hurriedly gathering themselves and their belongings, stretching tired bodies and sleeping limbs from such a long journey. She was collecting her bag, and running her fingers through her wind tousled hair; she wore a green jacket that hugged her body just right, and she pulled on a well-worn cap that rested comfortably over her eyes.  

Storytime Saturday, featuring an excerpt from an upcoming untitled piece.

Read on if you'd like; if so, thank you for taking the time to do so. Best of days to all.

The bus veered around a series of winding corners, and they slowly and methodically snaked their way deep into the trees. He surprisingly managed to drift in and out of sleep periodically with each bump and sway of the ancient machine as it rocked him to sleep. The old driver tamed the turns like a seasoned pro, and managed to swerve deftly around each craggy bend; any driver with normal nerves would surely not have attempted that type of road with the type of speed that this guy was able to conjure up. It was actually quite a shock that the old scrap heap was able to generate any speed at all, he mused. One look at that thing and you’d think it must’ve been George Washington’s motor coach. That fucker had to have been at Valley Forge. A good jolt jarred him from his sleep, and he sat up wide-eyed in the seat. He gave a quick, slumber induced glance around the bus in order to get his bearings, and noticed that her eyes had closed and her head was tilted back against the seat. Her head shifted gently from side to side with each curve of the road, and she looked so peaceful like that, he thought, her head dancing along with the movement of the bus. The breeze forced its way in and caught fragile tufts of her hair in its grasp, and sent it flying rapidly in front of her face. She was beautiful.