The morning comes over the horizon, in a flash of stinging light. The thin atmosphere is of no comfort. The sun comes blazing through as if the sublands is exposed to outer space coming into contact with the direct sunlight. It shoots through the air like a stinging pulse of irritation and assaults the senses. Harshly zooming into the eyes of any onlookers to any given morning.
The corruption of the light, being in the throes of a time of death to all under the stars outside, is a cruel limbo. Harsh and unforgiving. A horrible hour over the hour that will end the day in very short order.
Winter is an ugly time. An ugly season. A season of death. Dead limbs and leaves all over. Nothing tidy. Unlike Spring and Summer that clears and keeps green the ground and life outside under the stars. Oh December, I would send a wall of fire at your approach. Burning you up into ashes, as you make ashes disguised of flake and drizzle.
An Observation by Iggy 2015
Monday, September 7, 2015
Friday, September 4, 2015
The Insidious Month of March
Lest we forget the fateful Ides, and the fact it's still winter for this month, the month of March is not a friend. It's an enemy. Enemies lurk and then reveal themselves in full view in this month. Anything you believed before will be shown to be the exact opposite. For this month is not the place to prosper. The most skilled will see it coming but even then it will still show even further treachery.
The Romans seemed to dislike this time of year. It made them alert and paranoid. And with good reason. There's nothing muted about March unless you ignore it with all your willpower.. Outside, in the outdoors, is an ominous place in this month. Things fall. Clouds look menacing. Nothing pleasant to be seen here.
It stands on two slippery slopes across the valley between winter and spring. It likes its days short and its nights long and it threatens to kill the future. March has always done that. It's not a good customer. It's in a costume from the last masquerade that doesn't know the party ended. A very strange party that people left early from, because of some premonition about death. That's how March goes.
An Observation by Iggy 2019
The Romans seemed to dislike this time of year. It made them alert and paranoid. And with good reason. There's nothing muted about March unless you ignore it with all your willpower.. Outside, in the outdoors, is an ominous place in this month. Things fall. Clouds look menacing. Nothing pleasant to be seen here.
It stands on two slippery slopes across the valley between winter and spring. It likes its days short and its nights long and it threatens to kill the future. March has always done that. It's not a good customer. It's in a costume from the last masquerade that doesn't know the party ended. A very strange party that people left early from, because of some premonition about death. That's how March goes.
An Observation by Iggy 2019
Thursday, September 3, 2015
The Beastly Month of February II - February Is So Bizarre
It's always the first hours of the dawning of the first of the month of February that you feel you're repeating last month. So you hunker down for more of the cold and think to yourself; enough of winter already! But February will have all these warm and sunny days right in there. You're gonna think Spring has already begun, but you know it's February.
Some snow falls. For a day. Then melts like some forgotten popsicle left unnoticed. It did that, it did, it was like a day in Spring for a few hours, summer-like then went straight into the dead of December. That was unnervingly odd. Then it went balmy.
In a Leap Year, such as this year, February's going to give us one more day. Granting us the last few hours into the next month, when we can hang on for just a little longer. As if time has stopped and the ease into March will flow normally.
But it isn't normal, is it? This extra day is riddled with inconsistencies. Strange dreams and weird roads. That's the bizarre effect of February. All those days you know something's gonna happen. It happens but you were asleep, or dozed out or maybe in a self-induced coma. Either way, whatever it was, came and went. It becomes some delusory event that you probably didn't want to notice anyway. Because you're really just gliding on through February, knowing that there's no way you'll ever seize this strange thing that it is.
It's a month that will not be had, and I suspect doesn't want to be counted, it wants to exist in its own world. The world of parallel seasons, Winter into Spring, or more likely dusk into dawn with no pesky high noons or alarming definite strokes of midnight. It's like the wee hours, the hours you're aware are there, but as February would have it, the hidden time was only lurking, then disappeared with a foggy pillowing of mist and cloud that you know wasn't in the forecast.
An Observation by Iggy 2012
Some snow falls. For a day. Then melts like some forgotten popsicle left unnoticed. It did that, it did, it was like a day in Spring for a few hours, summer-like then went straight into the dead of December. That was unnervingly odd. Then it went balmy.
In a Leap Year, such as this year, February's going to give us one more day. Granting us the last few hours into the next month, when we can hang on for just a little longer. As if time has stopped and the ease into March will flow normally.
But it isn't normal, is it? This extra day is riddled with inconsistencies. Strange dreams and weird roads. That's the bizarre effect of February. All those days you know something's gonna happen. It happens but you were asleep, or dozed out or maybe in a self-induced coma. Either way, whatever it was, came and went. It becomes some delusory event that you probably didn't want to notice anyway. Because you're really just gliding on through February, knowing that there's no way you'll ever seize this strange thing that it is.
It's a month that will not be had, and I suspect doesn't want to be counted, it wants to exist in its own world. The world of parallel seasons, Winter into Spring, or more likely dusk into dawn with no pesky high noons or alarming definite strokes of midnight. It's like the wee hours, the hours you're aware are there, but as February would have it, the hidden time was only lurking, then disappeared with a foggy pillowing of mist and cloud that you know wasn't in the forecast.
An Observation by Iggy 2012
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
The Beastly Month of February
Usually I like to ignore this month in general and be grateful it's the shortest month of the year. It's hung right in the midst of Winter and teases of Spring to come. It mocks back at the landscape and takes in the bleakness and sends a few dark tidings in its wake.
Oh the time of February, the time that wound down from the frenzied January. The long December before that tied off with celebrated days and long past when February comes and settles for its reign. Its waif-like arms enfold the air but it never grips too hard. It doesn't have to, it's a dread in dreary tones. It's unnerving without announcing itself.
When the last week of February begins to close and March is almost ringing, the dolesome touch of a sedentary force restricts enthusiasm and makes no impression of hunger or strife but in a backwards fleeting way it gives no solace. But that's the way February began too. It's one long day and night disguised like a whole month. Some weird inverted time frame. It has to be because you never feel like you've slept, waken or eaten.
It's almost like you're suspended in a force between struggle and unwilling resolve. The Beastly Month of February feels dead and it's like standing in the Realm of the Dead. Or rather limply tilted against a wall of fog. This is February's terror on the humans.
One bright spot shines, though, on Valentine's Day. It wasn't seen as such a hopeful day in 1929 come to think of it, though. So onto the strange murmurings of February that winds on, and we hear, but we don't answer because February only hears us once every four years. When that extra day we wonder at. Even then we don't really know why we would say a word.
An Observation by Iggy 2010
Oh the time of February, the time that wound down from the frenzied January. The long December before that tied off with celebrated days and long past when February comes and settles for its reign. Its waif-like arms enfold the air but it never grips too hard. It doesn't have to, it's a dread in dreary tones. It's unnerving without announcing itself.
When the last week of February begins to close and March is almost ringing, the dolesome touch of a sedentary force restricts enthusiasm and makes no impression of hunger or strife but in a backwards fleeting way it gives no solace. But that's the way February began too. It's one long day and night disguised like a whole month. Some weird inverted time frame. It has to be because you never feel like you've slept, waken or eaten.
It's almost like you're suspended in a force between struggle and unwilling resolve. The Beastly Month of February feels dead and it's like standing in the Realm of the Dead. Or rather limply tilted against a wall of fog. This is February's terror on the humans.
One bright spot shines, though, on Valentine's Day. It wasn't seen as such a hopeful day in 1929 come to think of it, though. So onto the strange murmurings of February that winds on, and we hear, but we don't answer because February only hears us once every four years. When that extra day we wonder at. Even then we don't really know why we would say a word.
An Observation by Iggy 2010
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