WeatherSystems

"This evening in the darkness of the sunset’s shadows, the most breathtaking of sights appeared to me. The last glow of the diminishing sun rays embraced your body and rose to a crown of radiance upon your head.With ocean surf as the background, your arms reaching outward like sails in the wind and your toes submerged beneath sparking grains of sand, a princess casts her spell to the distant dunes where I rest my being.The softness of your body dressed in the evening shadows and warm glow of the setting sun enticed my eyes to gaze upon this most precious of beauty with enchantment of my inner self. The dreams of you will linger in the channels of my mind more so than the mystery of Atlantis at the bottom of the sea."

The trail was narrow and dusty winding through the deep dark forest towering overhead. It was so dry twigs snapped and echoed through the air as dust settled upon the brush behind. His footsteps were intense destined to a point far away beyond the canopy of evergreens towards a respite of a lush green meadow and sounds of a waterfall in the background. Sweat dripped onto his brow, settling upon his eyelids, blinking one eye at a time he does not miss a step. Like a drone he labors forward as being controlled from afar. The shadows give way to rays of light as he nears the forest edge. The scent of wildflowers and a hint of moisture in the air draw him ever faster and faster to the brightness. Soon he emerges into another land and his stride relaxes, a slight mist replaces the dust laden air and massages his nostrils. Ever slower and slower he walks and begins to feel his arms drawn down to his side and a sense of well being in his soul. The sun shines brightly here but is not hot. The earth is green and flowers compete with the blades of grass. A pristine waterfall in the distance sends millions of soft water droplets throughout the air. A huge log brings him to rest releasing his energy he sits upon the once giant tree. His boots drop from his feet to the ground and he sheds his backpack and shirt exposing him to the wild expanse. Gazing to the aqua hue of the falling water, he ponders the solace of his surroundings and reaches out towards the tranquility of the moment. One man, now in a world of his own, drawn here by a world he left behind.

Dear Mr. Thompson,

I regret having to compose this letter to you in such a way to excuse my possible misinterpretation of my character. However, it has come to my attention that your account with us is terribly in arrears. Due to the privacy policies of our company I am not able to disclose your situation in such letter. It is a pity that our long withstanding relationship has come to such a trifle. In order to avoid expenditure of additional funds on ink, paper and postage, our company is requesting that you present yourself in our office no later than twelve o’clock noon on the 23rd. Please be prepared to settle your account via teller check or in cash. We trust that the goods we provided were of utmost quality and to your likening as we have heard no different. Rest assure, we have valued your patronage in the past but simply cannot employ an intolerant approach to our business ethics. It is suggested by the corporate board that this matter be quickly and quietly resolved for the appearance of solitude on your part. Considering the possible social aspect of your situation and the Queens’ Ball ten days from now, matters shall be completely closed and not forthcoming. Henceforth, we shall part company and bury any ill feelings shall they arise.

Respectfully,

Thomas C. Serrington III
Chief Accountant and Overseer
Beatrice Manufacturing LTD

As I walked down the dimly lit hallway, I noticed a doorway ever so open. As I passed I could see the flickering of candlelight. Sensing to enter the room, I turned myself about.

In a dream was the room and you were there. From beginning to the end, it was a perfect moment. From the end backward to the beginning it was perfect moments worth reliving over and over again.

While we both have our dreams perhaps down different paths, you entered my space as I longed to enter yours. The doors of our lives are best left slightly ajar to welcome those that enter.

My Dearest Natalie,

Just thinking once again about our encounter last week at high tea on Devonshire Street that I was put upon to drop you this note. The conversation we decided was quite entertaining and sharing our interest together over scones and English tea was superb. I must say my dear that your presence left the other patrons quite curious, especially the Duchess of Crestshire. Who is this mysterious woman dressed in white lace and lavender ribbons? Our laughter engraved between our hearts was ever so enlightening and I am elated that we became better acquainted. It was rather amusing the expression from our waiter as we acted out the seriously expressions of the moment. It would be my honour to accompany you for a jaunt in the countryside in my carriage. I know a setting worthy of your visit and of utmost beauty and enjoyment. I do hope you accept my invitation within a fortnight. Until that time you shall linger in my mind like the flickering of a candlelight.

Respectfully yours,

Thomas ~

Today was very, very hot by the way.

Tomorrow will be hotter weather forecasters say.

The AC is nice but the electric bill will be hard to pay.

This heat wave I wish would go and not come back another day.

Thankful for the ocean air that will eventually come in to stay.

Dearest Annabelle,

In response to your request for an insight to my latest travels, I offer the following. My excursion to the wild ocean beach near Lake Ozette was most enjoyable and somewhat mystical as well. Hiking through the dense rain forest left me on edge at each turn of the trail. The placement of tall evergreen trees, their dense canopy overhead played games with my mind. I envisioned prehistoric raptors or such creatures running through the dark green ferns drooling mouths wide open set to pounce upon me. It was a long three miles to the open expanse of the wind swept beach. Once setting foot upon the coarse sand I could see my extension of the journey before me. Rocks, large and small and storm laden driftwood logs strewn hither and tho’ would make for a challenging walk. Raptors of a more common sight soared overhead watching my every movement. With the tide out treasures galore were exposed for my viewing. Sea creatures of every kind beckoned my calling in the rocky tide pools. About half way traveling northward I came to rest upon a once giant tree and set myself down for a spell. Solitude yes, boredom no. I could almost hear the haunting cries of ancient Indian warriors in their long boats trekking the surf. Petrogryphs of centuries gone by were on the face of large basalt rocks giving one insight of days long ago. The Indian village once robust and active was buried some 300 years ago by a large mud flow. Those inhabitants walk the beach on such hollowed nights arising from the misty depths of the sea. This day bright and sunny could only offer faint echoes from the forest edge. A bald eagle perched on a snag above me were the eyes of the ancient people that allowed me to share their space in time. Proceeding to the northern trail head and then back through the dense forest left me with a strange feeling of abandonment. I was not alone this day for sure but escorted by ghastly spirits that will walk the desolated beach forever.

Warmest regards,

William

Imagine an encounter with Nymbol in his secret garden. Nymbol is, well Nymbol and I am told a anatomically correct character. And with that you'll have to take my word. Another place in time, another thought in my mind, and yet another rare find. His eyes cast a spell upon your gaze bringing you into a surprisingly misty haze. A tear of joy you will find as you enter his gate but don't be surprised if you return home very late. His world is imagination in swing not forthcoming what it will bring. But this I will say, returning yet another day for what will be a very pleasant stay. Yes,this is Imagination 101 on First Street in Langley by the sea.

Dearest Emily,

The cones on the bough were laden with dew hanging so delicately in the early morning chill. The aroma of cedar filled my nostrils as I passed under the giant tree reminding me of the burning incense in your parlor. The fog so gingerly floating just feet above the dampened earth reminds me of the enchantment when we are together. The rising sun casts its rays above the eastern horizon and into my eyes bringing you yet further into my mind. A new day was dawning bringing us yet closer to our engagement in two days forth. As night gives way to a new found day, I give you these thoughts from my pen.

Most fondly and awaiting our time together,
Sir Constance

If one listens very intently, you can hear the whispers of the ocean through a lonely seashell. The depths of the sea have many tales to tell and speak to those that seek the mystical encounters of times gone by. Close your eyes and imagine as the wind beckons your calling. The hint of sea mist upon your skin, the goosebumps dancing on your cold skin. You stand there shivering in the breeze and entrained in the fantasy of the deep blue sea. Way oh, way oh . . . .