1. A fall of rust
    On a blue mountain
    My eyes saw nothing
    But beauty in the making.

  2. Wounded rust
    Still you put in the work
    And the results are always
    Pictures of life otherwise
    Passed over but not for you
    You see beauty and a heart pounding

    • Thank you, Sheldon, for your fine words and you know how to put them together to say something essential; they nail me, to myself πŸ˜…, which is the only thing one should be nailed to. I hope you’re okay, relatively spoken; keep going and cheers for the weekend! πŸ»βœ‹

      • Harrie your about the only one left as of my die hards I see Barry’s face every once in a while but everyone else seem to have fallen into the cracks of life…no Richard..Ashely..Marlin..where

        • Yes, old fighter, where did they all go.. Malin has stopped and deleted her blog; we are friends on Facebook, where she posts her photo’s almost every day. Ashley has faded away slowly; last post was in the beginning of August… Barry visits me almost daily and posts less frequent as he used to. I guess one of the reasons that people stop blogging Is, that they switch to Instagram, which seems to be more fashionable… We’ll, that’s how life goes; and nostalgia gets born.. Cheers my friend; see you! πŸ»βœ‹

          • I’m on Instagram now too
            But I like WordPress also
            I would love to find Malin on face book

          • I’m not. I’m a bit tired of being forced into every new multi media hype. I still have enough good photo-loving-blogfriends who are sharing their thing; and maybe the two of us will be the “The Last of the Mohicans” in Blogland, in a few years.. πŸ™‚ (and Malin found me.)

          • That’s why I said what I said to you…..my reasons were different than just the Instagram platform…..sometime I’ll explain it to you…I’m not going anywhere just yet…but I needed to see what there was

  3. Ik ben zelf wel fan van roestfoto’s.
    Hey, niet zo somberen hè!

    • πŸ™„ Ja, goed advies!πŸ‘maar er zit ook een soort schoonheid in het somberen, in de melancholische regionen, die, als een soort guilty pleasure, soms best wel even prettig kan zijn, mits het maar niet al te serieus genomen wordt. En met mate.. πŸ˜‰βœ‹

      • Vertel mij wat! Ik ben ook gillend van het carnaval weggelopen, al jaren geleden.

      • Het was geen advies. Daar ben ik niet zo van. Vooral niet van doe maar blij. Die mensen die zijn me spontaan niet meer gaan volgen ook. Het is wat het is he. Blijf jezelf. Meer moet je niet doen.

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