I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy ~ Sylvia Plath

“To everything there is a season” proclaims the very revealing book of ecclesiastes. I have “religiously” used these ever encouraging biblical verse as a prism, I would confirm the fact that 2015 achieve, if not quite a scriptural vision, then a poetic imperative. I have to an extent dabbled into many topics regarding the struggles of humanity and the beauty in Nature there is, a huge chunk of this intensive thoughts have being inked on sheet. But I ask here again; Shouldn’t Nature be allowed to give colour to humanity’s makeup, making the sky glow and dance to the amazement of all? Now in the season where every spouts emanating from every man that make up humanity, should be one of happiness and yuletide. This leads Charles and Gabor to a collaborative effort, using the elements of written words and still-life shoots to capture reality and paint a picture of the obvious stay of “Nature and People” in the years past.

People would definitely come and go; regimes change swayed to the same rhythms as seasons, yet people would eventually leave this platform, shouldn’t nature and her seasons which are representation of the continuity of life be protected, allowing generations to come bask in the savoury she provides?
We watched the Arab spring come with its heat; the summer of Africa’s Indignation; Every Autumn usually occupied across the globe; and now perhaps there is the onset of a long “Russian Winter” practically brought into Syria and her neighbouring countries, If I have to go on, we would be needing a clutch of fresh metaphors.

The meteorology of 2015 extends to a Nigerian summer [The beginning of Buhari’s anticorruption campaign, which is actually paralysing the stay of happiness of the general populace] and a year-long North-Korean deep freeze – though it’s always icy weather when it comes to democracy in that almost forgotten republic but all the facts and figures from harsh realities we experience on a daily has being gnawed away by think tanks and historians. But, right now as the year comes to an end. 2015 might not sound like an epic story to the ears of a majority, it has being a year in which the cataclysmic were closely even with political controversies; storms, floods and heavy magnitude earthquakes never slowed down man’s ability to fight for freedom and tranquillity, in the face of stiff oppressions.

These designations of course, do not strictly follow equinox and solstice, but there is resonance when we associate certain unrest with specific seasons nature offers. Every new spring, for example, cast an optimistic light on the Arab revolts, indeed the Arab spring is known in its own region as the Arab Awakening. But isn’t that what spring is – an Awakening, a rebirth? And with the huge agitation emanating from the south-eastern part of Nigeria, for complete freedom from a country with no “serious” stand on oneness; does not the word uprising almost photographically bring to mind’s eye a germinating seed? Spring is hoping that the best is yet to come. As bright as it shines, summer is unique with an abundance of both light and fire. Perhaps it is the right time of the year for Bianfran’s down-and-out youth to see things for what they are. We could as well regard this to be “the dry season” of torpor in this part of the African continent. Where the heat can kill.

While there is a peppery confrontation over territory, we expect to see a cooling of all heightened tension, so nature and her seasons can enjoy our attention once more, instead of the endless craze for war.
But hold on, these are animistic projections, born of our pathetic fallacy that somehow the cosmos reflects and echoes what humanity feels. Definitions meld into one another when they shouldn’t. Reality however, quickly disabuses us of this notions and definitely not just through equinoctial calculations. “Occupy” has somewhat transitioned and not actually transformed with fall. It’s clear the Arab spring has transformed into the Arab years, as it has outlasted it’s schedule by many years. Internal brawls in Libya and Nigeria has extended into the summers and falls; and Syria is dragging it into “many seasons” of winter. All this said on the day the my black dog died.

…the day my black dog died
a cheerful-loving old Belgian shepherd
whispered sadly


a voice as harsh as reality
as clear as my existence
He echoed

the melancholy
nevers ends
But the assurance I got;
“life gives rise to life”
yesterdays would not be held unto

Today we bask in the euphoria of “now”
more alive than ever
You would tell from this declared affirmation.

This is my year 2015 round-up 😉

You could add your 2015 round-up in the comment space. 😉


Happy New Year!!


© 2015 CelonaCharles


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