plant by the window

They don’t look like snakes, do they?  That’s what it’s called, though: snake plant.  Supposedly they are good at releasing a lot of oxygen and that extra O2 promotes sleep.  So, there’s now one of these plants in the bedroom because sleep is such a powerful need that it trumps everything, including the fear of anything related to snakes.

Hey!  Sleep and snake are both five letter words!  Coincidence?  Yes, definitely.

Anyway…

I snapped this picture as a joke, and then ended up liking it so thought I’d share it here.  What do you think?  Would you bring these snakes into your house?  Do you have any other tricks or trips you’ve found work to promote sleep?

Also, want to take bets on how long before I dream about snakes after writing this?

 

we shall see

I see you, seeing me.
Asking questions with those eyes.
Preparing your blatant lies.
You can’t fool the jester.

We shall see what we shall see.
That’s how the saying goes.
That’s how the fiction grows.
I’m more than silly, mister.

Spinning rhymes, let it be,
And my gaze will find the truth,
More than words and more than proof.
More than sins that pester.

My sight looks out to be free.
Though my heart knows its place,
And I’m too tired to race.
So my words only fester.

……………….

Blah.  I’ve sat down to write a post with this picture for the last couple days, and nothing came to me, so then it became this hurdle I had to get through.  And prove that I could do it?  Or, maybe just be done with it so I could move on to something else?  Or, maybe just because I’m stubborn?  Hell if I’m going to let this picture thwart me!  Something like that.

Anyway, this was a completely accidental selfie.  I was at the beach and squinting against the setting sun to try and catch the rays stretching across the breakers, and couldn’t see what I was looking at.  I’d flipped the camera around and had forgotten to switch it back.  Whoops.  I love how it turned out, though.

Not as big a fan of the poem/rap I came up with to go along with it… but, looking for silver linings, at least I wrote something and am posting it?  Sure.  Why not.  That’s as good a place as any to start.  So, here we go… picture and some words…  and, maybe this will kick off more of both to be shared with all my faithful kingdomites out there?  We shall see.

rio mortal

The water is cold, born from melting snow, and swift as it churns down the canyon.  It seems to invite you over as it calls from across the campground, “Come on over, come on in, it’s so hot out today, just chill your feet in my cool waters for a bit and you won’t regret it.”

It only knows partial truths, though.  Yes, it is a hot day and, yes, the water would most definitely take the edge off that heat.  However, the rest of the truth that goes unsaid, is that one wrong step and the current would rip your legs away and then it would be a toss up what got you first: the rocks or the freezing water.

You know the full truth, yet you enter the water anyway, because the day is hot and because you’ve survived that same choice countless times before.  Mostly, though, it was the heat thing.  You always forget how hot it can get while camping away from the niceties of home, like ceiling fans and air conditioning.

Jesterly Challenge Month – November 24th

My Cousin Cathy sent me a second picture prompt challenge.  What do you see when you look at this picture?  Let me know and tell me what you thought of my story in the comments.

…..
…..

I sat on my haunches, using my right hand to steady my balance, and my left to push aside some of the thick leaves of the busy in front of me so I could see the castle beyond.  Nothing stirred.  At least, nothing seemed to stir.  At first I caught myself thinking that nature had reclaimed the castle and so it must have been abandoned long ago.  However, I instantly knew that was wrong.  Nature hadn’t reclaimed the castle.  The castle had reclaimed nature.

Whoever, or whatever, resided within its stone walls had lovingly invited the surrounding forest back inside to thrive.  While it would to most, I presumed, as I gazed upon the beautiful structure it did not seem odd to me.  Animals with supposed intelligence had spent too many eons fighting nature.  It seemed right that finally one had learned to live in harmony with it instead.

I was intrigued by the whole situation.  The castle.  Its inhabitants.  The manner in which it had come to be and then continued to exist when so much of the world had crumbled around it.  These were all curiosities I could find answers to if I truly desired.  I had only to stand up and announce my presence and I had no doubt that all my questions would be resolved.

Alas, my better judgment overruled the more childlike, innocent, naïve, parts of my conscience and I stayed hidden from sight.  I was intrigued, yes, perhaps even captivated by the castle rising from the forest floor in an intimate dance with the wilds of this part of the world.  More so, however, I had a will to live.  And to interact with strangers in strange dwellings in the current age was to likely forfeit ones life.  Dark times had come to Earth, and only those who had accepted that and adapted early on had survived.  Only those who stayed skeptical and wary continued to live.

I stayed, though, hidden as I was for longer than was smart.  It was comforting and nostalgic to see something so beautiful in an otherwise ugly world.  It gave me a burning sense of fire in my heart, one I recognized from my youth as hope, that I was hard pressed to ignore.

When night fell and I silently slunk away from the castle, I pondered if that was the trap of the place.  It lured you in with its beauty while its caretakers were anything but?  I would never know.  And, I was okay with that.  I took the mental image of the place with me, though.  I carried it at all times, and I let the flame in my heart, the burning torch of hope, rage on.  I could be careful and carry that flame at the same time.

Jesterly Challenge Month – November 22nd

My Cousin Cathy challenged me with a picture prompt.  Tell me what you think of my story and tell me what you would have written instead in the comments.

…..
…..

The proof was there.  I pointed it out but nobody would believe me.  They claimed I’d made the footprints and I was just trying to rile them.  I am many things, but I’ve never been a prankster like that, and at the time I wasn’t sure what hurt worst: that they didn’t believe me or that they didn’t know me as well as I had thought.

I’d seen the creature walking in long strides through the forest.  The movement and the brown colored fur caught my attention immediately and froze my forward steps.  When I focused in, I caught the features of a distinct face rather than snout and my jaw dropped.  I’d wanted to call out then but had been so filled with awe and terror that I couldn’t find the air to push from my lungs.  Perhaps that is how it has gone hidden for so long – those who see it are struck dumb by its size, power, and beauty and that allows it to escape before it can be witnessed by others as well.

It smirked at me.  It was a definite twist of the lips upward in a rueful smile, and that’s what finally broke my trance.  My feet stumbled backward first, caught off guard by the emotional expression, hinting at playful intelligence and humor, and that terrified me more than its presence.  So, my steps falteringly lurched backward until I ran against a tree.  Luckily, I didn’t hard enough to do any damage, but, unfortunately, it was a loud enough knock that the beast decided to vacate the area more quickly.

Bounding forward in giant strides, longer than before, it disappeared quickly.  Unsure why or how, but knowing, I guess, that I didn’t want the experience to end, I gave chase.  As I dashed forward, slapping away long hanging branches, I called out to the others, “Bigfoot!  Bigfoot!  You guys!  Hey, you guys!  Bigfoot!”  I didn’t wait for any responses.

It moved so quietly I couldn’t follow it by sound.  It moved so quickly it was well beyond my ability to keep up with its pace.  I managed to catch glimpses of its fur as it moved further and further away, and then I saw it duck into the small ravine and I lost sight of it altogether.  When I got to there, the wet footprints where it had first entered the water glistened on the stone steps lining the middle of the creek.  I wanted to follow, but by then I could hear the crashing behind me of my friends getting close.

Grunting and panting from the excursion, they all hunched down and peered around me to see where I was frantically pointing.  Then with scoffs and shakes of their heads they turned around and made their way back to our camp.  Not a single one of them believed me.  Perhaps that isn’t fair.  Perhaps, it is more that they were afraid to believe me.  I’m not sure.  Not that it matters anymore.

It was the stones, arranged so aesthetically down the middle, which made me linger long after the others had left.  Who had placed them there?  Where did they lead?  Thinking back over the trail map, I didn’t remember seeing the small stream anywhere near our camp.  Perhaps it was too small for the makers of the map to want to include, but that didn’t ring true in my heart.

I carefully lowered myself down to the first stone I could reach and stepped from stone to stone until I came to this archway.  If you’ve found this note, that means I haven’t come back through yet.  I don’t know what to tell you.  I don’t know what I will have found on the other side or if you should follow me in or not.  But, I suspect if you are here, then you are like me and will need to know what’s on the other side, where the creature went, and what comes next.

I wish you safe travel and good luck wherever your path leads you, and perhaps I’ll see you on the other side.