Danny James

Tag: sky

419: The passing of time, in the shade of stirring trees

How much blessing here, among this holy mountain expanse and crystal air. Surely could one remain here his days with no troubles gather, abolished of all trial and desire. O Nature, she draws me so soundly, my hopes are with the clouds these grateful days, I cannot resist their charm. I’d enjoy to watch them sail on forever and nothing more. Grant me this one request skies; a heart that is placid, free and attuned, for now and all the time that is remaining to me.

397

It was a fascinating dance between night and day; a gorgeous undulation of haze and glow that made you forget quite suddenly and succinctly the things that had occupied your mind only moments ago.

Bondi

Bondi

393

”Sometimes I want to take in everything at once, and leave the confines of my singular existence. To not be so contained within myself. I’d like to leave my isolated mind and body and dissolve into the air. To stop interacting and fighting energy and integrate myself into energy itself. My mind would spill over and the contents would disperse themselves into the atmosphere. It wouldn’t be able to reel anymore; it would simply become enfolded in the life vibrating all over the universe. I want to be so fluid that I can experience the vitality and emotions of whoever I encounter, anywhere in the world at any point in time. I want to be a speck on a timeline running infinitely in both directions, skipping back and forth across it.”

danny james blog sky cloud thing

392: For you are mortal

A calm and foreboding undertow, building to its urgency rather beautifully as like the golden bloom of a setting sun. All the promise of doom is threaded yet with a most polite and peaceable reassuring, that even the end can be met well. Though not all things will reveal instantly their intentions true, the surface hesitates you, and the depths unclear; you must anyway cross this river.
Obeying the press of primal loom, take gladly the trails nigh the crescendos curve and ride with joy the sorrowful rhythms of reminisce. The haunting hymns of gaiety gone by and a loved ones laughter past. Turn your look with an optimism to the rainbow arc flung further than it can reach intact. But that moment in the middle, how it shines. Bold and spectacular. Nothing more glorious, nothing held back. Reach for yours the same. Spend yourself.

Surry Hills, Sydney 2014

Surry Hills, Sydney 2014

390

For a little over a month now Sydney has been swept by an habitual storm fall every Sunday, preferring its visits late in the afternoon. It’s as though the skies have been pent-up all week and delight, as we all do to finally let go. It is always the same; a short stay, a passing temper, worse in appearance than in conduct with a rather benign, even pleasant refreshing Summer afternoon quality. From the heights of my apartment have I full view of oceans from Bondi to Coogee and beyond and the contrasting sections of sky have been quite an inspiration for pause. One half still azure and awash with subtle sunlight, the other overshadowed by a crawl of dark and bulbous smoke that with each meeting so far has prevailed the initial contact but tires quick and disperses having spent itself. It might have made a fine occasion for reading had I energy to surrender at the opportunity. Still there was much in the sky to rest my attention on; the rain fell harder and straighter than previous expulsions, every drop seemingly in parallel direction and equal haste. Then it was gone and all things settled as though rain had not fallen and no agitation had occurred at all.

From Bondi, over Clovelly

From Bondi, over Clovelly

383

Danny James blog sunrise

I could leave Earth and soar the open sky for the rest of my days. Hurl toward the brink untroubled, drifting home on a stream. I could circle the clouds for eternity, calm, free and satisfied. Pause to bathe in the cold suns magnificence, and drink the breeze of heavens sighs.
But I could not love you more.

Danny James Blog Ana

380

And at last over the hill peered forth the smiling sun, to warm the bedrock of blank expression with its yellow touch. Under a glaze of Winter pearls the sleeping Spring buds stir, and the Earth prepares to welcome new life, fresh hope and young joy, to play, free and unhindered among the florets drenched in gold.

Hamilton Island, 2008?

Hamilton Island, 2008?

376: Wonderfully optimistic man

And he took his torment with a calm of one in maturity and well versed in the stirrings of the heart and human behaviour. Else what could he do, but what he could do? Which he was discovering only as he did. The heaviness of heart when it comes to mind too late, that it has all settled into place and some of the pieces are lost. And so would you never know to come across his path, that glowed subtly like a Summer afternoon, a kind of washed milky glow like a smile withheld but radiating from the heart, that all he wanted was for her words to fill his space again, and her eyes to find him so that he could melt into their orbit and stay there adrift and free, but never again, O lost. The object of his affection and duty was gone and he could not find her. His connection removed, deleted, though remains the circuitry, he fumbled the new reality. Wandered without aim the weary watchmen with no guard to keep and habits of service still strong in him, lacerating each time with the bitterness of their precision. Trudging forward, broken and decommissioned, by old emotions and automation haunted. A wreckage convulsing to the streams of recollective bites and static of memory. Some days worse. And though limped his soul, charged and recoiled in reflex of binary opposing instincts, survived in him still a restless vigour quietly pressing on, devoted as ever to the faith that each hurt is somehow a gain accumulating, and a needed provision for enduring the road few endure, toward mastery. He Went about his day, sacredly and silently, human and whole as could. Made his bed, did well his work. Adopted new routine, and perfected the humdrum attention to details that would add-up. Not to distract but to cultivate a reaquaintence with the things that were truly his, and the habit of durability. A certain authority develops recognising thus what can one control, taking all else with a contemplative distance, and so this way, he managed to salvage his days. Went home to his chamber each night, concentrating his thanksgiving into the sky, stifling who he was before and burying his grief deep into the soil of memory, than rather cast it off to winds of past. He would keep it, always, and would use it in methods of reminder and lesson, uncommon to the defeatist who go nowhere, value nothing good and complain that providence hath not with progress their luxuriousness of inaction graced. And he knew through it all, what survivors know best; that when descends hardship, or fortune rains favour: no grief is final, no joy is everlasting and are both at times satisfying and intolerable and entirely manifest of the mind. Only patience builds the strength, by difficulty and effort revealed. He was getting back day by day, who he might become and it would take as long as it takes.

334

Even if one cannot interpret the worthwhile qualities inherent in wet weather, it is still a good rain nonetheless, that reminds of the more companionable and traversable moods of the elements, and heightens the gladness when visited by once more. Nature bestows that one prepares for, and can thus be found in all Her temperaments an appreciation and value, if one looks.

329: Light reveals wonder

Hurling toward thee, o herald of the Auroral sky, I bring news of many revolutions. So much has changed again, I wonder if you’ll perceive me anymore, as much to myself am I unfamiliar anew. But o, the things you must have seen of the world while I slept. How fares my neighbours on the other side? What colours of expression will you carry for the impression? Our reconciliations bear an amnesic appeal, that every colloquy is the first and no other and we are at once the oldest of friends and loving strangers, by attached we know not what.

Bondi, 2013

Bondi, 2013