You Can Let the Sun Go Down on Me; I Know it will Rise Again


I have a bit of a fascination with sunsets.  It seems to have become a recurring theme–in my writing, in my photography, in my paintings.  I’m not sure why, exactly.  I ‘m sure if you read through all the poems and looked at all the pictures, you could pull some sort of thread out of it.  Tonight, I’m content to simply bask in the beauty, and share it with you.  I woke up from a nap today, wondering what to do.  I could get straight to writing.  I could maybe go for a run.  I could sit outside and read.  It was early evening, and I figured I had time to kill before I should eat.  I wasn’t exactly rearing to do dishes, anyway.  

I packed my travel backpack with a blanket, a camera, a book, and my keys.  I unlocked my bike and set out for a particular hill on campus.  I used to go there at night a lot last semester.  I would sit out under the stars, watch the stoplight turn green-yellow-red, and just think.  It was fresh air that cleared my mind, helped me breathe, let me live.  I wanted to be out in that fresh air, wanted to feel that life rushing through my veins, warming my bones.  I read, took pictures, relocated.  But what good is all this beauty if only for my own eyes?  So here’s a peak at what I spent an hour or so doing today.  It was good to be out there, living, resting, breathing.  

 

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Singing When The Evening Comes,

The Scribbler

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About thefreescribbler

My life is one of words. I am a scribbler, whose thoughts are best expressed through adjectives and phrases and punctuation marks. I would not go so far as to call myself a writer, although many would disagree. I’m characterized more by my unfinished works and half-embodied ideas, scraps of stories and parts of poems. Maybe one day I’ll be a writer, but I’m okay with being a scribbler right now. It fits my personality and style, and best expresses my aims. I’m not trying to create some lofty version of literature. I’m just a kid blogging about life. View all posts by thefreescribbler

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