Storm in the Rocky Mountains - difficult times
There was a sense of foreboding in the small wooden homestead. Family members were crowding in - shuttering windows, bolting doors, securing the animals in the barn. Bright shafts of sunlight were still flooding the end of the valley as the sun set, but they obscured the towering storm clouds behind. Thunder rolled ominously like a dragon roaring in the distance, and as the darkness deepened, shafts of sizzling lightning could be seen and felt as the family huddled together. It was going to be a hard night.
Storm in the Rocky Mountains - euphoric
Darkness creeps in from the base of the rocky outcrop, and slowly covers the entire area encircling the lake. A war is about to begin in the heavens, between light and dark. For several held moments, the angels and demons silently acknowledge each of their celestial being's presence. The sun is dimmed by a veil of hazy white mist, thicker here and denser there. The mountains cradle a tranquil lake, with thin wisps of vapour dancing across the surface. A foreboding black hut nestles at the edge of the shimmering water, radiating a malevolent aura…
Flower beds in Holland - reminisce
Vincent walked within the patchwork blanket of bright tulip beds, his spirits rising after the cold and difficult winter. The war was over, but the aftermath of death, illness, and separation had taken their toll on his health. Yet, he had refused to stop planting his beautiful bulbs, and the glorious spring colours - whites, yellows, oranges, and even blues - filled him with new joy and hope for the future as he returned to his empty home.
Flower beds in Holland - loneliness??
Puffy blankets of fluff cover the once-blue sky. Subtle rays of sunlight shine towards the vast, open flower beds of Holland. Sweet scents of tulips waft in the breeze as the leafless tree behind Christopher's barn waves. A lonely man ambles across the flower beds.
Field of poppies - cheerful
My grandmother towered above me on that memorable walk, her cream and black hat, dark summer parasol and rustling long skirts swishing through the living red screen of swaying and tall, green, dappled grasses as we walked across the field. I was six, she seemed ancient, but the bond between us was loving and unbreakable, or so I thought. Little did I know that that was to be the last time we ever met...
Field of poppies - melancholy
And it used to be like this: My mother cheered me with the field of poppies. She always took me there on a Summer's afternoon on the way home from school. That day, Lucy and her mother agreed to visit my house, so we traveled across the tall poppy fields together.