With Open Eyes
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
As you lay in your bed
awaiting your time to rise.
Think of what you may be missing ,
it could well be a greater prize
Who would have believed a single drop of water could have such a dramatic effect? That it would leave a memory that would remain long after that single drop had journeyed countless miles through streams and rivers and out into the sea. It is still etched into my memory and I can pull it out at will, I can put myself back into that very same place I saw it. Just by closing my eyes and remembering. I can feel the chill on my cheeks, see my breath rise into the cold, early morning air and watch it until it disappears into the dark bare branches above my head. Beneath my boots there is the crunching of heavily frosted grass and as I disturb the leaf litter a damp musty smell arrives at my nostrils.
There are snowdrops, and over there in the bottom most branches of an old Yew tree, a flock of small birds are singing. Then as I draw my head towards them they flit between the branches and out of sight with an almost gay abandon. The sun is beginning to break through the milky haze and force its way into this winter wonderland. Slowly at first, little fingers of light probing their way into the still sleeping woodland. The light growing brighter by the second. Opening new vistas and gnawing away at the freezing nights build up of hoar frost. As the sun rises higher into the early morning sky the pace quickens. Its warmth becoming more evident, the grass is less rigid and the ground begins to soften. As ice turned to water I first noticed it, a bright jewel fit to grace any ring. The sun having made the beautiful
crystal globe, now glinted off it, and sparkled through it. This delicate gem demanded my attention I knelt down next to it, very carefully not wanting to be responsible for the destruction of such a fragile beauty. Ignoring the damp penetrating through my trousers and onto my knees. I leant forward now laying right next to it, almost touching it. Up close it took on a different life, both elegant and fragile, it mirrored its surroundings. Deep within the globe I could see, the bright green of the grass and the glow of the ever-lightening sky. I watched it grow as the warming air nibbled away at the frost and added to the liquid diamond that now hung precariously from the tip of a blade of grass. An upside down world of trees and sky showed itself to me through that little drop of water. Slowly growing until too heavy for that single blade, the inevitable came to pass. Almost in slow motion the grass gave up its prize. It fell and smashed onto the earth below, gone forever. A once seen jewel never to be repeated unless that is until I care to remember.
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Book Details
About the Book
This is not a single story although you will find some tales among its pages. It started off as observations just scribbled down after I had returned from my walks out in the countryside. It was for my own benefit really, just so I would be able, in later years to look back on my jotting's and remember. Then it started to take hold, I began to write about everything because everything seemed to have a story to tell. I think it was maybe my questioning nature. You see I can't help but wonder why Why is that song thrush singing atop that holly bush, or what that aged yew tree may have seen through its long life? Then there are just happenings, which perhaps mean nothing until you stop and think about them. A frosty January morning or a heat filled August day, this is what this little book is all about. Some of the essays in this book happened, some didn't, some of them might have done, but we will never know. Others well they are a mixture of both fact and little bit of artistic license, which I believe authors are allowed to use.
I will make no apologies if you don't like what you are about to read, but I really hope you do. And I would like to think I have managed to put into words some of the enjoyment being outdoors has given me. Then perhaps when you put this book down you might be tempted to step outside and see what's really out there. You might just get a surprise.
About the Author
What do you need to know about me well apperently 300 words is enough to convince you that this little book of mine might just be worth reading so with 265 left, here we go.
My name is Rick Robinson and I am 46 years old. I am married with 3 children and work as a civil servant. That’s got that stuff out the way, what about the Rick Robinson who thinks he may be able to bring a smile from your face or get you out your front door to gaze at a sunset, just by writing a few words on a piece of paper.
Well he is still 46, still married with 3 children and yes you guessed it, is still a civil servant, But he’s something else as well. A watcher, yes a bird watcher, and a buterfly watcher, flower watcher, rain watcher he can watch them all and then he gets to dreaming. After the dreaming comes the scribbling and then eventually he will sit down and type it out. If he’s lucky it comes out just right the first time. Others well they are consigned to ther recycle bin for another day. Until perhaps a spider’s web or maybe a dew drop jogs the memory as to it’s whereabouts and off he goes, back to scribbling. He’s like that you see the sort of man who needs the birds the butterflies, cobwebs and dewdrops.
Yes my name is Rick Robbo and yes I am only 46. Yes i am very happily married with 3 lovely kids. Yes I am a civil a servant and I think i might just be an author.
There we are then that is Rick Robinson and I think if I just stretch this out we will have 300 words exactly.