Rarely, if ever, do I get into a sombre mood where more than my rants and raves about anything and everything on this planet mean to me the songs of the chirping birds or the sweet smell of wet earth after rains.

I would not say that I am an overtly sentimental person, but there are just moments when everything gets stuck in temporal flux. I get transported into a whole new realm where reality either does not seem to exist or it transforms itself into a form so beautiful that it actually makes sense. Unlike Wordsworth, I am not capable of being pensive or vacant, though these occasional moments do bring out the poet in me.

The beauty of the night sky, the tippy-tappy sound of raindrops on a tin roof, the industrious ants busy carrying and stashing food, the serenity at dawn, the rusling of leaves under my feet during autumn, the breath-taking profusion of flowers during spring and the noises little children make when they play enchant me no end.

I feel thankful, etrenally grateful to the Gods above for giving us a world with so much beauty that it appears one life-time is not enough to appreciate it. Nature overwhelms me, and I do not care if my next moment were to be my last. In fact, I would like it to be my last...

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Every day is a winding road