Grey Skies of November

The air has a bite to it tonight. The skies are dark as we prepare for rain coming in from the west. As I make my way out from work, my mind drifts to the changing seasons. I have always found the cold air against my skin refreshing. The landscape has changed so much within the last few week, that to a visitor it would be unrecognizable.

Moonrise. Photo By Colleen Ann

Photo By Colleen Ann

The trees are bare and the gray muted sky reminds me of cold nights. Fall is waning, and we speed towards Winter. The days grow increasingly shorter. In the mornings the pale sunlight comes over the horizon. Soon we will be have deep cold nights full of stars.

I don’t complain if I can help it. Life is too short. I want to sped my time doing what I love. I enjoy quiet places where I can take pictures, and move around undisturbed. Like taking a stroll through a Cemetery to take pictures. They are quiet places, with an incredible amount of beauty. Many people avoid them due to their relationship to death. Yet Death is part of life. It is just part of the greater picture. Once you come to terms with that you are able to truly understand the value of your existence. So much of our experience is shaped by our attitude,

Against he Sunset. Photo By Colleen Ann.

Against he Sunset.
Photo By Colleen Ann.

I never saw my life here, yet as I look back I am thankful. I have been through so much, yet I am stronger than I have ever been. The struggles have made me thankful for what I have. I see life through a different lens due to my circumstance. I am incredibly thankful for what I have, and would not take back on of my experiences for a moment. Everything that I have faced has shaped the individual I have become.

A moment of Gratitude

I personally feel that gratitude is a lost art these days. I wanted to express how thankful I am to all of you. 

This is something that I love. Writing makes me happy, and to see others enjoy my work is the ultimate gift. Thank you for taking the time to enjoy my work. Thank you for giving me this platform to share my ideas with the world.

I want to become a full time writer, so ever bit of praise is deeply aperciated. Thank you for your support, as well as sharing your ideas and thoughts and dreams. I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for your support and readership! 

Till next time.


Rugged Coast

It is mid March. The days have begun to get longer, but the winds still carries a heavy chill. We are still months away from the warm evenings of summer that never end.  Yet I enjoy this time of year, when the  seacoast is quiet. I find solace in the hushed moments in the off season. You get an intimate experience that you are not able to attain in the summer. There no traffic, no tourists, and no noise. Any time I can find quiet, I am happy.  This afternoon we only have a short amount of time though, so I quickly exit the car.

I love the mountains, but there is something refreshing about the ocean. Immediately that salt smell hit me, and I smile. I had been longing to get out here, yet hadn’t had the opportunity. Finally I decided to make the time. It was a dreary afternoon, but even these times have their beauty. The ocean is a steely gray, yet as it fans out I cannot take my eyes off of it. There is a harsh beauty that is unique to this rugged rock bound coast.

Looking Out. Photo by Colleen Ann

Looking Out.
Photo by Colleen Ann

The cloud deck was high that afternoon and blocked what little sunlight was left. The remaining light was flat, yet there was a moment when some sun broke through. It cast lonely rays across the scene, before the clouds obscured them. The air was brisk, but refreshing, and the wind created a dull roar as we made our way over the jumbled beach rocks.  Some were jagged pieces that have recently broken off and lay upon the beach waiting for the tide to come in and claim them. There was also rounded pieces of granite that show testament to many days of being throw around by restless tides. Growing up in New England, you become used to skittering over these rocky beaches. You tread lightly, just as a high-wire performer would.

All Washed Up. Photo by Colleen Ann.

All Washed Up.
Photo by Colleen Ann.

We wander away, down the paths and into the woods.  As we make our way down the path, I cannot hep but think of all the history that this point has seen. We pass the monument that pays homage to when our ancestors landed here. Further down the point lays the remnants of Fort Dearborn, a base during the Second World War. I am only sentence in the larger history that consists of this place.

I have always loved the Seacoast of New Hampshire. Whenever I make my way there, it always seems like time is suspended. It reminds me to slow down. We only stay a little while longer, until the final light fades from the sky. Yet when I turned away I am refreshed.  But even before we pull out of the parking lot, I am longing to go back.