Yesterday we lost my granddad, my mum's father, to cancer. This blog post isn't going to be about him, or about loss or mourning. I just wanted to let my beautiful readers know, as I have mentioned the situation previously and I didn't want to leave it as a mystery. I need to stop thinking about the cashew nuts he used to love so much, and how much he adored condensed milk, how he used to say 'you smell lovely', which sounds a lot prettier in his language. How he used to call me his 'number one' as I was the first grandchild born, or how he smelt, or how he used to sit in a corner and engross himself in crosswords. I need to stop, but I can't. Okay, maybe I lied, I've given you a slice of my grief and mourning and I apologise. I won't do it again.
Today I needed a prompt for my blog because once an emotion has consumed you completely, sometimes it becomes your only inspiration and I don't want to sit here complaining about how upset I am. I'd rather not upset you all too. My prompt for today is a picture, which I shall write a small story about. I hope you enjoy it, dear reader. I am coming up to 3000 hits on this blog and I cannot believe those of you who have stuck with me through it all so far. Although you may believe I haven't shared a lot in the twenty or so posts I have written, I have shared more with you than any other person alive today, and I hope you understand how much thought I put into each post. So here goes, another picture prompt.
If you are new to my blog and enjoy the picture prompt for today, there was a picture prompt used in an older blog post here.
~~~x~~~
The higher up I am, the happier I am. Down on the ground I am surrounded by giants; people are taller than me and more important, buildings tower over me and the sea seems to be a vast emptiness I am afraid of. Everything seems to press me down further into dirt and grit, pushing and pushing until I am completely submerged in the earth and not even the top of my head can be seen. I suffocate, down on the ground. I am nobody, just another speck of dust floating in the sunlight, blown away with the slightest, silent sigh.
When i'm sat up high on the rocky hills which not many are brave enough to trek up, the world is suddenly mine. I can grasp at building and boats, or delete them from existence by covering them with my hand. People are like ants, the sea can be poured mug of tea; the sky is the only thing which goes on forever however it is so clear and calming that I almost want to jump up and join the few lonely birds, flying so high the ground no longer exists.
You should see it at night. The buildings become stars, glittering and flickering as young children turn on their bedside lights and begin to read fairy tales. The stars in the sky become jealous, and they battle it out for hours until the buildings give up and go dark again. But, whilst they are ablaze, the sea sparkles and you can just about make out the waves, still drifting towards the shore, tickling it gently, then drifting back to repeat the process.
The best bit is they can't see me. Nobody can. Not my family, nor my friends, nor the buildings or the sea or anything but the birds which promise to fly with me someday. The ground may consume me on occasion, but I will always make it out and I will one day touch that crystal clear sky above my head. For now, I shall pour myself a cup of tea, using the sea as my water, and pick up the people by their collars and use them as spoons to stir my drink. The sand can be the sugar which dissolves so quickly it was almost as if it was never there. And after a few thousand mugs of tea, the ground below will be empty. I will have consumed it all and all that will be left for me is the sky.
~~~x~~~
That was quite possibly the weirdest thing I have ever written, but I hope in some odd way you have enjoyed it and can perhaps see the message behind my story. Though a simple one, it fits in with my life right now. No matter how hard life gets, or how much you feel swallowed up my the ground below, there will always be the sky to look up to and aim for and there will always be a way out.
Ayesha x
I would start this blog post with a meandering, endless list of reasons why I haven't been here but 'lack of inspiration', 'on holiday', and 'just started sixth form' would be the ones reoccurring the most. Apologies to my readers for not updating for so long. Whilst I was in Cornwall, I was over inspired. Each tickle of the sea breeze on my cheeks and handful of ripe, oozingly juicy strawberries I stuffed into my mouth was inspiration. Each corner I turned, the sight took my breath away. Cornwall is my childhood holiday destination and even the smell of my grandparents' house brings tears to my eyes and conjures a lump in my throat.
Moving on from Cornwall, I want to talk to you about Autumn. Yes, my darlings, that beautiful season which I cherish more than any other time of the year. For some, Autumn arrives when it is announced. When the month of September begins, people begin to greet Autumn with the shake of a hand and a turn of the page of their calenders . For others, Autumn begins when the weather forecast begins to announce cold weather and rain, and they greet Autumn with a frown and the purchase of a new jacket. For me, Autumn begins when I notice a tree with its juicy green leaves brushed at the edges with a hint of red, and I greet Autumn with a skip in my step and a search for conkers.
Yesterday, I saw 'The Autumn Tree'. I was on the train on my way home on a scorchingly hot day. You could almost hear the beads of sweat dripping off people's noses and the waves of hot air attempting to circulate around the carriage gave up their pathetic attempts so the air hung thick and incredibly sticky. It seemed like Summer. Mid-Summer. Then, glancing out of the window, 'The Autumn Tree' caught my eye and a sudden chill shuddered through my body. Autumn had arrived.
This specific tree had the most glaringly bright green leaves it was almost impossible to imagine that Autumn was on its way, however just tickling the tips of these leaves were speckles of crimson. A burst of red on the edges that made the leaves seem as if they had just caught fire. I stared at this spectacular blaze until the train passed 'The Autumn Tree', dreams of playing conkers, devouring toffee apples, purchasing a beautiful knitted scarf all engulfed my brain and Summer began to go fuzzy around the edges. It was over, I declared. Autumn was beginning.
For me, Autumn always has been about beginnings. They say, people, that is, that Spring is all about new beginnings because new life springs up around us. Hence why it is called Spring. Ridiculous, in my opinion. Autumn is all about new beginnings. Each year, in the first days of September, bleary eyed children in over-sized uniform, clutching their bags and yawning as they make their way down the street, have a new beginning. Each year in Autumn, children begin again. They are wound up and recharged and are set off on a new adventure.
Then there are the trees, the ones which make Autumn as beautiful as it is. Trees begin the beginning of the end, if that makes sense? They burst into flames, each one of them, going from blood red, to golden, then curling into a chocolatey brown before falling off. The beginning of the end, the preparation for death, although morbid they prepare so beautifully that you're almost grateful they are about leave the earth for good because they will soon return, crisp and gentle and green, ready to go through the process again.
Autumn is my favourite season. It gives me the chance for another adventure, it smothers me in colours so bright that I wonder why darkened, tinted glasses are only used as sunglasses and not 'leafglasses' too. Perhaps someone should invent those, although why would you ever want to cover up what nature has offered to send you on your way to work and school with a beaming smile on your face? Autumn is cinnamon. Isn't it just? It tastes like cinnamon, smells like it, looks like it. Autumn should just be known as cinnamon, it is just that delicious.
I hope you all enjoy your Autumn and look out for the beauty it has to offer. Mother nature is being kind, softening the blow which is the death of all things around us. But then, once death arrives, it is coated in layers of sparkling snow and concealed behind the joys of Christmas trees and crackling fireplaces. Each season will give you something to smile about, you just have to look out for it.
Until next time which hopefully won't be too far away, dear reader,
Ayesha x
