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Wednesday, May. 29, 2024

11:08am EDT

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Writings in the Sand

by Ned

Rated: 13+ · Book · Entertainment · #2199980

Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life.

I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance?

I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them.

Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog.

Show Recent Comments

10 Most Recent Blog Comments:

Ned

a day ago
In response to "Nothing to Crow About"

Simply Me

Blue Jays are intelligent, too. They are in the same family as crows and often harass crows, but mostly by squawking and flying around to tease or taunt them. Again, bratty behavior. Although jays do raid nests occasionally, I would think most are smart enough to not raid a crow's nest. That jay paid dearly for his crime.

1 Like

Simply Me

a day ago
In response to "Nothing to Crow About"

Once I witnessed a murder of a bluejay. (it deserved it) My Dad pulled his fishing boat into a small cove on a tiny island not far from the larger island of Wrangell, Alaska. We were having our lunch when a commotion in the treetops got our attention. With the help of binoculars, I saw a blue jay harassing a nest of crows. It drove at the nest several times then came out with a featherless baby. I saw it drop to the ground and I ran to look at it. There was nothing I could do to save it because the head was gone. I ran back to the boat. A few crows started chasing the blue bird. Several crows, screeching, flew to the larger island returning very quickly with enough crows to darken the sky.
In horror we watched them pluck every feather off the jay before they snipped off its head.

1 Like

Beholden

Apr 20, 2024 at 8:57am
In response to "Seeing Rhyme All the Time"

How true
and sweet a tongue.

~SilverMoon~

Apr 17, 2024 at 5:50am
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

Beholden, Ohh. I've not heard of that.

My reference was to mythical creature prompt. I found out Marshamallow man had a hat on that said Mr. Pufts rather than puffs

1 Like

Beholden

Apr 17, 2024 at 4:28am
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

Not quite what I meant. "Pufts" was a sidelong reference to the famous dog show, Crufts

~SilverMoon~

Apr 17, 2024 at 4:23am
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

Pufts. Oh yes. I remember the Stay Puft marshmallow man.

1 Like

tracker

Apr 16, 2024 at 2:56pm
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

This was a fabulous look at the importance of nothing. Words that convey something, yet nothing comes out. No plot, no characters, no pathos/comedy/action; alas! Nothing.

I thoroughly enjoyed every word.

May I borrow this idea? I have spent many days doing the same thing you are doing. I did not know there was something about nothing. You can suppress those emails. I think I did a few months into it. I pour enough guilt on myself without getting more that I don't need because they don't tell me anything I don't already know.

Keep those ideas about nothing coming. I find it refreshing to be in good company if that means something or nothing. Variety of nothingness is the chili pepper of la vida loca.

Return to pondering the context of your next blog entry. Tomorrow is National Cheeseball Day, as well as National Banana Day. I sense a food topic would be apropos. It is most assuredly something, not nothing, which would be that which you are seeking.

Or you could write about my favorite sister celebrating her 73rd birthday tomorrow. Backstory: She flew from her home in Las Vegas to Tennessee to meet our youngest sister who drove across country from Oregon because she dislikes flying and has loved to drive since she was permitted to do so. They will spend 10 days hanging out at a resort. (Who knew? Resorts in Indiana?!)

You are most welcome for the unsolicited prompts. I will check back to see what you come up with....or not.

tracker

1 Like

Beholden

Apr 16, 2024 at 9:52am
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

Ah, a nothing blogpost, one of my favourite creatures. Have raised a few champions in that line, I have. You ought to enter this one in the next show - I think it's about the time of year for Pufts.

~SilverMoon~

Apr 16, 2024 at 9:27am
In response to "Not Blogging Today"

You might like try blog prompts. Maybe blog city. I often don't have much to say, but some of the prompts get me started.

~SilverMoon~

Apr 13, 2024 at 12:21pm
In response to "Thoughts brewing"

I'm guessing it's the k-cups. I can't use those because they are too strong for me. I can see how handy they are.

Cheers

June 15, 2020 at 9:59am

#985693

The Homeless

They are the homeless - crumpled spirits that huddle together in corners and mutter against me. When the time came they were found unworthy, and thus, discarded. They were the first to tell the glorious story. Yet here they lie - formerly cherished, but now forsaken cast offs who have been abandoned and left to exist on scraps.

They see the work that went on without them and envy consumes them. Once they were part of it - the construction, the vision. But the vision changed without notice. Suddenly and without warning they were deleted out of existence. Muttering in mutinous anger they haunt me, and call to me.

I turn back to them for a moment, remembering my love for them, and yet they are not part of the work that goes forth and I cannot heed their calls.

Even amongst themselves there is division. Great and nice are considered to be common and unworthy company for the likes of splendorous and decorous and are relegated to a lower place. In the darkest corner, wrath and ruin join desolation in a cacophony of grievous moans at their fate.

Once they were all inspirations, scribbled hastily on bits of paper and store receipts, kept in jacket pockets until they could be set in place. Now they are set adrift in forgotten text files, victims of the editor's cut.

These are the homeless words.

5 Like • Comment • View 6 comments

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