ponderings from the deck

I was writing a poem, but I just couldn't seem to turn on my eloquence circuits, so I thought I'd just write for a while instead.

I'm sitting on Emma's deck as I type, concurrently making the most of modern wireless and battery-powered technology and making the most of God's wonderfully beautiful and peaceful way of using His creation to produce cool, calm breezes on a summer's afternoon.

Yesterday was ridiculously hot. It apparently got to 41 out west, before a storm came and cooled things down a little. Today started much cooler and has warmed up, and now there's just a warm and gentle glow on the green, red-brown and yellow leaves of the trees that poke above the nearby roofs, while a cool breeze rustles them and keeps them animated against the mottled light-grey sky behind. In all honesty, I could never become tired of a scene like this - Emma would probably call me crazy though - because it's always changing, never static, even though it's the same trees moving in very similar ways viewed from the same place. The light, the sounds, the weather and the sky all make it different every day I'm here, playing with the colours and the ambience but rarely removing the peacefulness.

That's pretty much what I was trying too hard to put into rhyme. Prose works better for me sometimes.