Renegadetourist

Archive for June, 2011|Monthly archive page

Train to Göteborg 9:21 pm

In Place description, Poetic prose, Reflections, Writing on 2011/06/16 at 19:11

There is a soft hum in the background and every once in a while a low squeaking can be heard. The train glides slowly, seemingly without effort through the green landscape shifting from forest to field and back to forest again under a sky full of light clouds; mist creeps across the fields and to my right the sun is setting. The coach is short. With only a few groups of seats in grey and white with wooden tables in between. The roof is domed like that of an airplane but with big windows stretching upwards. Except for me there are only three other people, one behind me in a corner, one almost completely hidden behind a seatback a few rows in front and the last one, a rather fat man with dark sunglasses (who wears sunglasses when there is no sun?) and big headphones. Except for the fat mans heavy breathing and the electrical hum in the background, it is completely silent, no one talking no infants screaming, nothing. It somehow prompted me to look up from my book and write these words……strange.


Haggen 7:36 pm

In Place description, Poetic prose, Writing on 2011/06/09 at 08:01

The lake is a mirror painted in a bright sky blue with clouds of silver, turning to a dark green where it meets the billowing line of lush forest on the other side. The  high summer heat is lingering longer than expected and the sun shines hotly on me and my parents. We sit here on the jetty eating Blinij with caviar. Quite possibly my favorite food and eating them right here together with my family is possibly the best way. I glance out over the semi finished sundeck me and my father have been working on then reach for another tasty morsel.

Haggen 11:34 pm

In Place description, Writing on 2011/06/09 at 07:23

The lake surface is perfectly flat and reflects a light blue summer night sky as well as the dark contours of the opposite shore. Ragged line of treetops meeting a slightly yellow band of sky both over and bellow. A bolder, a tall birch tree and some hanging branches frame the picture and on the other side, the faint orange glow of a solitary house. I thought the night out here in the countryside would be quiet but standing here writing these words I start to hear the sounds of the night, a few birds squeaking and a low whoosh of wind. I wish I could stand here longer but the air is chilly and most of all my bare feet are getting cold. Time to go back inside, after all the lake and sky will be here tomorrow just a beautiful as today.