Night – Jules P Richards

The days are getting longer, the cycle commute home is now dusk, but the commute in is still dark when I leave c.6.45am.

The Bridge

The Lane

The Street

The trip in is an awakening one, the chill and the freshness awaken you on many levels. It really can be a great experience. As with anything it’s what you make it; yes, there are many distractions that could make the trip a most horrendous routine – but as I say it’s what you make it. Or perhaps it’s what you don’t make it. One thing you can notice is that the day is bigger than you. It’s more than the things in your schedule; your targets, your meetings, your worries and your wants. The natural world, or rather the ‘raw’ world is alive. Breath is what keeps us going. A cycle commute certainly can help you to notice your breath, your spirit – the raw you, the raw us, that this all boils down to.
I thought I’d stop and capture a bit of the mood. Above are three quick images that I took this morning. As usual, a little post-camera processing to reflect my brain’s wondering milieu.

Words of the week – revolution and revelation…

Night.

And then, in the night, starts an underlying bass note,
not cello, nor violin, not instruments of any kind…
a sub-earthy roar in the air, distant yet looming.
Voices, animal, primal? No, bigger than that,
an otherworldly drone, multi-tonal yet singularly monstrous,
distant yet personally present, calling your names like it knows your fear.
Then the darkness cries and the drone is broken
by screaming tears of falling fingers.
Streams and running watery sounds hiss
and wash away the roar into a thousand fragments.
Whispers remain, a distant threat retreats into hollows unseen
and space remains in the emptiness.
Dark colourless sound almost silent
but the farthest hum can be felt
if you hold your breath, swallow, and listen…

Day.

A dawning… A cleansing breath
of the lightest strings and piano notes
lift a mist to reveal another breath, another breath,
and… another… the absence of noise, the presence of rhythm.
A hint of light seeps through, enlightening hope…
Direction, ambition, fresh hope and unity…
Knowledge, inspiration, spirit. Wide, wide possibility,
horizon, touch and sensation… chorus…
Glassy eyes widen and know acceptance.
Blended inclusion. Minutiae blossoms.
The joy of process, the chance of encounter,
and tastes of the treasured.
Percolating outward steps, towards the reception of sustained community.
Breeze, more than sound, graceful movement,
like the sound of the sea… breaths…