Photos By Jarvis.

Same ol' tractor. You know the yard.
Had to catch a beautifully spread sunset.

Photo from 2022 that I dug up to fit this peace I just finished editing. No title to the writing. Just had some fun and let it write itself.

Waking in the dark depths of the night. I remember I was alone. Time didn't yet exist to me, but the dark was inescapable. There was darkness and then there were shapes, outlines within the darkness, outlines of the motionless night.
This is when I discovered for the first time what it meant to be alone. In the world with no way to call for help. No one to call for help. It was the dead of night and I, an infant, had no understanding of words, even if it was light out I had no sorts in telling anyone what I was about to endure.
I remember waking up away. Feeling far far away from home. I remember feeling away from known. I hadn't left, but I had left my physical infant self behind.
Looking down at myself I know I recognized him more than this floating feelingless figment. The aura presenting itself before me, in front of my crib. It didn't speak for we had no use for any exchange of words. Again, even if I was able to form them. I remember feeling solely alone until the acknowledgment that I wasn't. I had myself.
That's what that felt like, that in that moment I was no longer a solid. This current state of being that I was in. I'm not suggesting that I was occupying two places at once. No. Merely wholely in one.
Outward calling in there is a faint whisper in the dense of the darkness. Outside of time and deeper than what this room consists of, laughing, cackling against my skull at the dullest 1:51a.m.
My mind must hate me. Drowsy like a cruel joke. Tomorrow is one long blink away. Only ever a breeze and a handful.
A bore of a novel, a waste of breath in asking "who is there?" A waste of a breath? I knew no words. I knew no language. and the room's mood bat's an eye at the sliver of my brain slithering along the carpet towards the door. Though towards the front door, on the other side of the door itself, the door frame has been bricked up. Sealed.
But I'll never know that. I already know that that piece of me is gone from me.
Confused in utter disbelief, watching through crossed eyes as my mind cracks splitting into two. Like an abyss along the sea floor spawning into existence after shifting plates. Caving in on itself. Creating itself. Birthing into creation, the lights of the room flickered and as they flashed in that split second the split in the skull of my infant self swelled and widened to a gaping hole.
Knowing that each of us, all of us, make up what is God, a part of me has to wonder what is destined to happen next along our cosmic journey?
"What comes next?" My true self mumbled to the sick of the dark. Gleaming down from the corner of full dark it was as if peering through a window that I knew infant me would not, could not, be peering back. For me, this true self, this recognizable feeling visiting in the pitch black, I am the aura.
The whisper calling inward echoed back "free yourself."
Fluttering my eyelids, infant twitches. Reaching out from the inside of my inner skull is a tiny clamation gnome. Smaller than I but not by much. A mean miniature viking. He had no sagging red beanie nor snug blue jacket, but wore a fitted hide cap instead. Crafted with attached horns from the take away from his first hunt. He had scars on his face and under his shaven scruff of a beard. His pants, also stained animal hide, had seen much better days.
He had traveled a long way and that shown. This miniature viking at the climax of his own journey. Something had led him here. Something had led him to me, through me. and he seemed to have been seeing me. Looking right at me. This me as an aura.
Whatever universe this room walled he could see me.
He stepped out from the sleeping shell that is I, and he seemed just as bewildered. He spoke mustering through a mumbling tone. "Do you have it?" Unable to hold the words back any longer.
Nothing could have made the still moment any stranger. Refraining from laughing I managed enough vocals to retort "what?"
The little man's expression turned violent. Though little he's still a man. A scarred man you didn't dare laugh in the face of. He grunts wrapping his fingers around the grip of a club. " I've traveled too long and too far for your foolery. Where is the blasted key forged by my people?" As he was speaking, his shrill tone squealed, as he shrieked his tiny fingers danced around the handle. The brow over his glare sank. "This world and all that you know ____"
There is a knock at the front door. Like the snap of fingers to the end the trance, at the knock at the door the demonstration simulation will end. As so it does.
The pitch black abyss of a child's room brightens to a dimly lit white room, deserted of all life, with an emergency light flashing in the middle of the rooms ceiling. The room and its contents visible. The siren and flashing light continue as the screams of a frightened baby are heard throughout the halls.

Appreciating the still & "quiet" moments.