Country Elevator no. 2. More
Spring Planting.
Crescent Moon Sunrise.
New Day Highlights.
Dale Street Sunrise.
Country Elevator.
Ever have one of those days? You know, the kind where things just don’t fall into place. Some refer to them as Monday’s, but those types of things can happen most any day. It just so happens that my last instance happened on a Monday. I walked through my normal morning routine per usual and then headed out the door. It wasn’t until I was a few miles out-of-town that I noticed I didn’t have my phone…that electronic device the keeps you connected to your immediate outside world and beyond. I wasn’t that far from away so I turned around and made haste for home. Yep, there it was on the nightstand right where I let it. Alright, now I can head out and get back on my way to work. //30 minutes behind schedule//
I was driving along as I normally do; thinking over what I needed to do that day in my head. I was right about at the halfway point of my commute when Cyndie called. She asked me if I had seen her car keys. I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and quickly realized what had happened. We were out and about on Sunday and I was driving her car; upon returning home I left her keys in my coat pocket. Crap! Back home I went to correct my mistake.
The one thing I do love about my commute is the sunrises of Summer. June, July & August produce some beautiful sunrises; all mostly before 6 a.m. Today – this day in early March when the sun doesn’t rise that early; because of my delay, I was treated to a beautiful sight as I headed back home for the second time. Once home I seriously contemplated a vacation day. It seemed as though the universe was trying to tell me something – forget Monday; go back to bed.
Determined as I was to get on with it, I set out for work a third time. //1 hour behind schedule//
The clouds were amazing. There was a hint of hoar-frost on the trees and a pinkish hue in the sky.
My favorite rural landscape was rather picturesque this a.m. as I passed it by for the fifth time 🙂
The refinery dragons were spewing their exhaust from right to left this a.m. – unusual as it is usually the reverse.
At this point I was thinking the universe had been wrong about this day. That is until I arrived at my exit from Hwy 52. A car ran the stop light and almost t-boned me on the driver side; it would have if not for my spidey-like senses and lightning fast reflexes. At this point I was only moments from work and their was no point in turning around – although the thought occurred to me.
The view from my favorite I94 on-ramp was rather nice this a.m. and well-received after my recent brush with an inattentive motorist.
Even if you days starts out wrong and everything seems to be discombobulated – keep at it. All will work itself out and be fine eventually.
Have a great Monday tomorrow everyone.
New Day Blush. Accompanied by the twinkle of a single star in the sky at dawn.
Nikon D60-Tamron 18-270mm |1600 ISO | 23mm | f3.8 | 1/25
Here Comes The Sun. The all-to-familiar lyrics were what first came to mind as I peered into my side mirror traveling across Hwy 60 this a.m. marveling at the colors of the sun about to rise. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun. And I say it’s all right.
George Harrison wrote this in Eric Clapton’s garden using one of Clapton’s acoustic guitars. When the Beatles’ manager Brian Epstein died in 1967, the band had to handle more of their accounting and business affairs, which Harrison hated. He wrote this after attending a round of business meetings. This song was inspired by the long winters in England which Harrison thought went on forever.
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s all rightSun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comesLittle darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear
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In the documentary The Material World, Eric Clapton talked about writing this song with Harrison: “It was one of those beautiful spring mornings. I think it was April, we were just walking around the garden with our guitars. I don’t do that, you know? This is what George brought to the situation. He was just a magical guy… we sat down at the bottom of the garden, looking gout, and the sun was shining; it was a beautiful morning, and he began to sing the opening lines (to “Here Comes the Sun”) and I just watched this thing come to life.
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Farm Remnants.
