The most jolly existence in this world is that of the wind. Maybe its attributable to its nomadic lifestyle. Always blowing, somewhat cocky, shaking everything on its way. Making its presence felt not by form but by impact.
Carrying with it the scents of earth, and roses and dirt.
Does it envy us? Does it dwell homes? Guess we’ll never know!
I envy you, dear winds!
Word prompt: Jolly
While love is a universal panacea, for a pluviophile, rain means the same.
It doesn’t matter how distressing the internal affairs are, catching a mere glimpse of dense grey clouds approaching the realm of sun, is enough to exhilarate us inside out. A forewarning in the form of currents of cold winds fill our hour with pure joy.
The transition from bright sunlight to gloomy grey is nothing short of art. Everybody hides, they take shelter, and those who feel show themselves as mad men dancing in the rain.
Our favourite morning chore is parting curtains to the affair of rain. Our favourite midnight musings are reminiscing at the sounds of rain on our windowpanes. A stranded shower or one complete day of it, we humbly cherish that which our beloved tries to satiate us with because like earth, our thirst is unquenchable.
Daily Prompt: Panacea
‘Welcome to the party!’
‘You’re on the menu.’
A response to the daily prompt word: Fraud
Painting: Through River Trees, Tom Nachreiner
Do you describe yourself as a river, or the trees that stand at its bank?
For the river, the struggle is holding on. For a tree, the struggle is letting go.
Most of the people say, they wish to learn the art of letting people go. Well maybe you don’t, because when you get too familiar with the art, you can virtually never tell when to stay.
And I don’t know what is worse, holding on to the idea of a thing long after it’s gone or letting go of it when it’s still there. But the hard part is not being able to tell them apart.