The post that wasn’t; or almost was

This isn’t the post that was originally scheduled to be posted today. If this was the post that was originally scheduled for today, it wouldn’t look like this. It wouldn’t read like this. And it wouldn’t have this picture:

In fact, the post that was scheduled today didn’t even have an image to go with it, so this post doubly makes up for the fact that it replaces the post that should have been posted.

The post that should have been posted was nowhere near as informative as this post, and slightly less fun.

All in all, I think it’s better that this post was posted today, rather than the post that this post replaces. The replaced post may never be posted; or it may be re-written and posted in a slightly different way. Or, it may be posted as it was originally intended before it was replaced by this post, or, it may be replaced again. Will we ever get to know?

I’ll keep you posted.

Blame the heat…

Sploshes of Colour: Summer Heat 2

I hope that you haven’t been holding your breath since my last Sploshes post, because I haven’t really made that many changes since the last post and this one.

I’ve added eyes to the guy, and then added sunglasses, and then added a shadow over what we can see of him as the scorching hot sun is behind him. It’s meant to be scorching hot, anyway. It’ll be Winter by the time I get that feeling, but hey! a little Winter sun is always more than welcome. Anyway, as the sun is scorching, I’ve tried to make the tee shirt a little more clingy and the skin tones redder and shinier. Even in the shade.

It’s that hot!

Are you feeling the heat yet?

In the next Sploshes post, expect even more heat. But again, please, don’t hold your breath!

Feeble. Just feeble.

Attractive section of content. I just stumbled upon your blog and in accession capital to assert that I get actually enjoyed account your blog posts.

Anyway I’ll be subscribing to your feeds and even I achievement you access consistently quickly.

After weeks – nay! months – of waiting for a great spam comment or two to come along, I don’t get any. The example above is from way back when, when I decided to save some of the more ‘odd’ spam comments. This was the only one saved.

They don’t do spam like they used to.

Not that I’m complaining, mind. 

Let’s hope that we have now entered a Spam Free Zone!

Did you know that there’s a star with the designation 24213?

There is! It’s in the Taurus constellation. In the image to the left, the small red box towards the centre marks the co-ordinates of where 24213 actually is. Or should be. The co-ordinates are 03 52 11.9 +25 11 03, but I’ve zoomed into those co-ordinates and couldn’t make out a star… unless the box is in the wrong place and it’s meant to be on the large star just below it. The Universe is quite a big place to be slightly off, however, but one of those stars pictured will be 24213.

Taurus is one of the oldest constellations known to man, dating back to the Copper Age, an early part of the Bronze Age, and as such holds its place in many ancient legends and mythological tales.

There’s a link between Taurus and Phoenix; it is quite a feeble attempt at finding a connection, but it’s there never-the-less.

Firstly, Taurus and Phoenix are two constellations, one in the north, the other in the south, but that isn’t the connection. According to Greek Mythology, Zeus took on the form of a bull in order to abduct Europa, a Phoenician princess, so that he could marry her in Crete. Now, as convoluted as these myths and legends get, Europa was either the daughter of the king of Phoenicia, Agenor, or she was the daughter of Phoenix, one of Agenor’s sons. Whether Europa and Zeus wed is open to debate, as Zeus was also with Hera at the time, and presumably a few others as well. They had several children, Zeus and Europa, one of whom was Rhadamanthus, which I’ve merely included here as it rolls off the tongue! He was a resident of the Underworld, incidentally.

Anyway, I digress. It’s so easy to when looking into links with the past. It’s still fascinating.

So, Zeus became a bull, which is how he came to represent Taurus – or Taurus represents him. He is also the God of the Skies, and the God of Thunder. And Europa was (or wasn’t) the daughter of Phoenix.

And here’s the feeble link. A rocky road, if you like, or even a rickety railway track. Phoenix, or the Phoenician princess, ties in with my Sunday’s post, and Zeus and his thunder links into Saturday’s post.

There is method in my madness.

Somewhere.

Dance of the Phoenix

                         
With wings of fire
Feathers of flame
And head and tail of light

The phoenix
The firebird
Lifts off the ground, and upwards into flight

   It circles
It soars      
It sizzles                  
It roars          
           It shrieks
                                           It weaves and dives
                                                                         It hovers
                                                        It swoops
                                          It spins
                          It loops
And it aims for the greatest heights

The phoenix
The firebird
Dances and flies

And it dances with delight

I seem to be having a weekend with a ‘dance’ theme, for some reason, this week. Haven’t a clue how that could have possibly happened!

After yesterday’s post being an extended version of ‘Pianist and the rain’, I’ve revisited another post from 2012, ‘The birth of the phoenix‘, and this time, instead of extending that rhyme as well, I’ve kind of continued on with it. The first part was the phoenix rising from the ashes, and now this is the phoenix in flight. Who knows, the next part may be about what the phoenix has for tea!

I love playing with colour with the odd post. I hope the text is clear if viewed on a device where the background appears white. I was once told off for using yellow in a post, but just for devilment, I’ve added three yellow characters at the beginning.

I’m such a rebel at times!

Dance of the Pianist

As the pianist played, the rain fell.
As the rain fell, the thunder sang.
As the thunder sang, the lightning danced.
As the lightning danced, the pianist played.

Thunder and music.

Lightning and rain.

Harmonious. Togetherness. Nature and sound.
Dancing. And playing. Music abounds.

In tune.

In rhythm.

Inside and out.

The pianist plays as the rains come down.

Thunder. Now birdsong. Raindrops galore.
Both nature and musician need to give more.

Sunlight breaks through the gaps in the cloud.
If bright light was sound, this is very loud.
Competing with birdsong
And the pianists’ keys
And the patter of raindrops
And the rustle of leaves

The pianist continues.

More thunder claps.

More sunshine through the clouds’ many gaps.

The birdsong and chatter continue with glee.
The thunder rumbles on, although distantly.
The raindrops still fall, but now gentle and light.
And the pianist still plays, to his delight.

A rainbow appears to join in the dance

As if by magic

As if by chance.

Each by itself. All as one.

On and on.
And on.
And on.

Into the future. The days ahead.
The pianist will play to the tune in his head.

To sunshine.

To birdsong.

To moonlight.

To life.

To raindrops and thunder.

To daytime and night.

As nature calls, the pianist will play.

Their dance, their togetherness, will be on display.

The dance will continue.

Through sunshine and rain.

Not always different.

Not always the same.

The pianist will play as the rains come to call
Through thunder and lightning.

In fact, through it all.

I first put this together back in 2012, although at the time I didn’t feel it was complete. Or complete enough, if that makes sense, but at the time any extra words I used didn’t seem to fit in with the flow.

I’ve revisited this little creation today, and added a few extra lines, plus an extra level of perception to indicate the passing of time.

I remember writing the first part one evening in 2012, as I was playing a video I’d found on You Tube of heavy rain in a tropical rain forest somewhere, and from there I just went with where my imagination took me (Not that I do that very often, I must add!) I have no idea what forced me to look for a tropical rainstorm in the first place, although it could have been simply to find inspiration for this post. Well, the first post, not this one. Obviously.

Although I have no clue as to who the pianist is (it certainly isn’t me as I haven’t got a musical bone in my body!), I’m beginning to see him (or her, although I did use the word ‘his’ in one or two of the lines) as the heart, beating its way though everything, from beginning to end. The dance, in this case, is life. And the weather and wildlife indicate all of the different events we come across on a daily basis.

See. I told you… my imagination is running away with me again. It could also just be about an obsessed pianist playing to nature’s tune.

Anyway, enough imagination for now.

Time to look for a fitting photograph for this post (although by the time you read this, you’d have already seen it!) I love playing with time at times…

Dogs of the twilight realm

I was disturbed last night as I tried to settle down. The sun had only just set, the sky was that bright-yet-deep blue that one occasionally sees at twilight, the final throes of the light of day.

Occasionally, there’s the odd sound that can be heard from out in the Grinds… a dinosaur’s roar, the occasional disembodied school hand-bell, an air-raid siren, a hovering helicopter, a scream… it all goes on out there. But last night, the sound that disturbed me was really strange. Almost guttural. And, as odd as it sounds, almost foreign; alien.

And unmistakeably dog-like.

I looked out through the window, and scoured the Grinds trying to see where this noisy animal was. Well, see as far as I could anyway.

Obviously, at that time of day, shadows are everywhere. What light remains plays tricks with the old eyes, and, even the slightest of breezes can cause movement where you’d least expect it.

At first, I couldn’t see anything.

Then, I heard the heavy breathing, the fiercest of growls… and the scratching.

And then the blackest of dogs jumped up at the window, paws desperately trying to get in through the (reinforced!) glass. Ferociously growling, barking, and slavering almost insanely. The dog’s wide eyes glowing red, but whether that was through anger or just a natural look I do not know. A lot of the creatures out in the Grinds have flaming red eyes! Sometimes I wake in the early hours and have the same look!

In the few seconds that I saw this dog, I spotted the eyes, obviously, and the size – a very muscular Great Dane. If the glass in the window was ordinary glass, the dog would have been through. Luckily, in my case, I was safe. I think the dog just appeared to scare the living daylights out of me… obviously its intention had already worked on the day’s daylight!

However, I digress. After two or three minutes, this dog vanished. Cleared off, and I never heard or saw it again. The glimpse of it was enough for me, and it sent me into research mode. I discovered two possibilities as to which Dog of Darkness it could have been, but I was surprised to find out that there are actually quite a few others (most of which have been passed down through legend and folklore).

The first choice, considering the dog resembled a Great Dane, would be the link to the Norse Garmr. Garmr, or Garm for short, was/is the Hound of Hell responsible for guarding Hell’s Gates at Ragnarök, or the Time of the Gods; the time when the Norse Gods fall and civilisation comes to an end. He is mentioned in the Poetic Edda; and one line struck me as I read it:

Till the house so high | of Hel he reached

But only because of the link to the Mansion, and the Rivers of Hell that flow beneath.

Garm, it is said, is a blood-stained hound. The dog that was knocking at my window looked rather clean, it must be said. Snarling and ferocious, but clean all the same. So, that said, I don’t think my dog-like visitor was Garmr.

The second choice is more like it. No, not Scooby Doo, who coincidentally IS a Great Dane. My visitor was a Gwyllgi (pronounced like ‘gwishkey’); a spectral dog that usually haunts lonely roads and leaves without a trace. The Gwyllgi, you may be surprised to hear, is actually a Welsh ‘legend’, a black dog of the twilight. Some legends have it that the dog tries to bring fear with it to all who cross it’s path.

Which, when you think about it, when one comes snarling at your window just after sunset, it kind of achieves its goal!

The thing is, I’m not in Wales, although I am quite close to the border. So, was this a lost Gwyllgi… or are they now branching out into England also?

I’m sure there will be more to this in time to come…