Bath Nature Preserve

Fleeting

/ mobius faith / 1 Comment
Mid Autumn
Autumn's a funny season.   It's always remembered for the changing colors of natures garments.   But that is, in reality only a short part of Autumn.   This week, the first week of November, about one week after this photo was taken, the leaves are almost 100% down (gone, kaput).   Autumn starts in September when leaves are still green and by the second week of October the change in leaf color escalates and you blink and it's over.    The rest of Autumn (the majority) is marked by dark skies, rainy (or snowy) weather and bare trees.  
I suppose that's what make Autumn colors so special - the brevity.   It's temporary status.   Trying to hold on to it is like trying to hold water in your hand.    It slips away of it's own accord, in it's own time and is gone.
Kinda like life.

FOUR 4 A FOGGY SUNDAY

/ mobius faith / 10 Comments

I sometimes think there are 5 seasons instead of 4.  Fog is like its own season because like the other 4 seasons it completely changes our perception of the landscape.  

FOGGY SUNDAY 1
FOGGY SUNDAY 2
FOGGY SUNDAY 3
FOGGY SUNDAY 4

A delightful song, LOST IN A FOG, sung by Ella Fitzgerald.

*no guarantee video will play outside the US.*

arriving somewhere but not here

/ mobius faith

Arriving Somewhere But Not Here

Never stop the car on a drive in the dark
Never look for the truth in your mother’s eyes
Never trust the sound of rain upon a river
Rushing through your ears

Arriving somewhere but not here

Did you imagine the final sound as a gun?
Or the smashing windscreen of a car?
Did you ever imagine the last thing you’d hear as you’re fading out was a song?

All my designs, simplified
And all of my plans, compromised
All of my dreams, sacrificed

Ever had the feeling you’ve been here before?
Drinking down the poison the way you were taught
Every thought from here on in your life begins
And all you knew was wrong?

Arriving somewhere but not here

All my designs, simplified
And all of my plans, compromised
All of my dreams, sacrificed

Did you see the red mist block your path?
Did the scissors cut a way to your heart?