The things that we do, the things that are done, sometimes, make me feel like I need a retreat. It doesn't weigh me down, on the contrary, at the end of it, it make me feel lighter and higher. Amazing things, revolution in the air, on the floor.
You know, every time I listen to Imagine, I see a peaceful world, some place like the Shire. My hammock under the shade of a couple of trees. A cool creek to the right and a small hut, from one of those fairy tale books, in the background with a little puff of smoke periodically puffing its way out of the little chimney.
A day in the life....
A day out in the fields, with my straw hat on, chewing on a blade of grass. God did say, "some of the happiest people in the world come home smelling to high heaven at the end of the day." Hang on to the thought; I need to digress for a bit, for I do deem the digression to be necessary.
A good author is able to exactly recreate an intended picture in the reader's mind. Or, maybe she just creates a skeletal framework of the picture and the readers are supposed to fill in the rest with their imagination and personal perception of things. I suppose it's the latter, but I'll resort to letting pictures help do a bit of the talking instead of words that would, in my well estimated opinion, surely do injustice to the lucid images I have in my mind.
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| Day out in the fields! ( Leaving the Shire, LOTR) |
We're back. Nothing like a dip in the cool creek after a good day of hard work. And oh, then there was the nice game of football in the meadows, no shoes, no tactics, nothing too complicated.
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| Joy to the world! |
Another dip, this time in a nearby pond, caught some fish for dinner. Then, it was time to set up a little fire; flint, hay from the fields, dry twigs from the woods was all we needed. A small gathering had arrived. We got some good old earthen mugs out and soon they were being filled with some home-made ale. All the good old ladies were busy concocting some good smelling, delectable delicacies.
Today was a special day though. One of the lads is getting married in a couple of weeks, there was a festive atmosphere about the place. There was some music, the lad started singing, "I want to hold your hand." There was merriment and dancing around the warm fire. The stars were all out now and the gaffer kept the little kids entertained for a while. Soon, it was time for some of us to go out on the usual perimeter walk, along the little encircling canal. By the time we were back at the begining of our circle the folks had retired to their cosy abodes. As for some of the young lads, a hug and a kiss and the lasses were off too, while some other genially devious mischief makers were busy conspiring. Some of us, we sat beside the dying embers talking about things from yonder and things of wonder till the seduction of sleep was too strong to resist.
I set forth on my walk, under the stars beaming through the wispy clouds, to the eastern check-post. There lies a gently-sloping piece of rock that faces the eastern skies. I place my nice, straw hat beside me and with a little hay for a pillow, now , I lay down on the warm rock as the stars watch over me. I look at the stars for a while and the words keep ringing in my head,
"Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes, inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall, come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning!"
I close my eyes, for I know, I'll be woken up by that sweet, soft whisper in my ear, "Said you want a revolution! Lil Darling, here comes the sun!" and a little morning ....
Imagine.
Snap.
- Me
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| Ruby valley, Nevada |
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PS: Thank you John, The Beatles and P. Floyd!
