The Things That Pass Through Us

Couldn't sleep, too restless in the humidity of the early morning......and rising up, I made breakfast and coasted til the hot black coffee was gone and the sun appeared. Ambled out to my woodshop where I did a glue up on some wood I'll be using for a memorial homage piece, it being a 19th century candle lantern. The sun appeared, but the sky became troubled....first regaling me with puffy streaming clouds to the West, before becoming formatted against angry looking backdrafts of sky in sultry deep blue/gray. The sun hits the back of my ancient deep green pines and contrasts this natural piece of a moving painting suitable as a backdrop for Renoir......and, sitting here now, looking out over the whole situation from my windows in the computer room that reveals this dance, I can do no more than, try to add the music at least to my muse. Nature is so powerful.....it constantly sets my tone and I am lost in her constantly. It's a voice....a sensuality, a poke in the eye to wake up and pay attention to your natural surroundings and all of the gifts that you had readily surrounding you had you know abandoned your natural intuitions.
It's as if it tries to call us back, to ditch our phones, media, and trending things.....jumping naked instead in a swimming hole or climbing a few hours along a mountain until you attain it's top and look out in wonder, not only in physical beauty, but what you really have attained within your mind by leaving all that technology shit behind.
But then, that has been my past experience.....and slowly closing the weathered door of my shop having completed my task......my muse once again has assaulted me with so many things. Most of which are good.
My poor trippy offering in music on behalf of a muse.
[media=https://youtu.be/4PrqoHvaRCU]