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Where have all the trees gone?

I’m sure that I spend half of the time with my eyes closed. I’m not referring to the time that I’m asleep, so I suppose my first sentence should actually read “I’m sure that I spend three quarters of the time with my eyes closed”, but that is too long winded. I know, I’ll start again.

I’m sure that I spend half of my time awake with my eyes closed… At the back of Aquatom Mansion there is a park. I couldn’t see much of it as it was surrounded by trees, but I could see it through the occasional gaps between the trees. And even if I couldn’t see the park for the trees, I knew it was there anyway.

Well I can certainly see it now. Where the trees were, there are now stumps. I have counted thirty stumps, but there are others around that are slightly out of range of my vision.

I’m positive the trees were there yesterday.

I don’t know how long it takes to cut a tree down, but with the amount of them it must have taken a day at least, or a crack team of tree surgeons have been brought in to remove all of the trees overnight. They must have also used specialist silent tree cutting tools, as I heard nothing. Fortunately, they have left a few trees still standing – unless they are coming back for them tonight.

I’m slightly disappointed that they have decided to remove the trees. As well as providing privacy, they also gave me the opportunity to watch the occasional bird hopping from branch to branch. In heavy rains, I enjoyed looking at the trees and imagined them enjoying the downpour. Their leaves became a more vivid green and they seemed to be standing more upright, their branches appearing like arms reaching upwards, rather than being weighed down by the rain. And to be honest, the trees provided a far better view than the one I now have of the park… or the basketball court that is in the middle of it. I’ve gone from being able to look at natural colours to man made gaudy, primary reds, yellows and blues. Don’t get me wrong, I like colours, but I prefer the more natural ones.

I hope they are going to plant some new trees. They can’t just leave it like it is now.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll look out and see this has happened, but I’m not holding my breath.

Although I may have to if more trees start to vanish mysteriously.

Just call me Ack…

Or Tom. In fact, you can call me whatever you want to! 😀

I wanted a different title to this post to the one that I was originally going to use, which was “The World According To Ack”. Basically, it is another of my random ramblings on things in my life that have a common connection. The common connection this time, is that all of these things are a part of my life, and have “Ack” in them. So, without further ado, I present to the world my Ack connections:

My username. Aquatom1968. Mysterious ultra powered blogger by day – and night – and a mild mannered computer type – but not made the geek grade yet – person in works time. Part dreamer, part fantasist, partist (that’s an arty way of saying part artist), part thinker, and most part observer of things in my own unique way. More often than not wrong, but who’s counting? And also, my home… Aquatom Mansion.

My back. I’m not unique here – most people have a back. All have a background. Mine seems to go way back into the depths of history… and beyond. More later, or before, depending on how you view things.

A crackpot… dictionary definition “An eccentric person, especially one with bizarre ideas” would definitely not be used to describe me. I’m far too sane. Yes I am.

My cackle when I’m experiencing laughing Sunday all over again – it is contagious. Please don’t make me laugh. You won’t like me when I laugh.

Fallback – Blog posts I have at one side in case I can’t think of anything to write. I haven’t had to use one of these for a long time now, well, since last May.

Flapjacks – yum!

Flashbacks – 1642 and all that! I seem to have these quite regularly.

Gack! A noise I shout when I’m suddenly surprised.

A computer hack – which I am not, but you would think I was in work with what I have to do! Not moaning…!

Jack – which I may or may not have in my car. If I do have one I still couldn’t use it properly!

Jackpot – sometimes I think that I really want to win it, and other times I think that I already have!

Knackered – just sometimes…

Lack – something I am moving away from (intentionally), the opposite being abundance which I am surrounded by.

Mack. No, not the coat, Allison Mack from Smallville. I’m closely connected to Smallville. Being called Tom and being a mystery man are part of that connection.

Pack. I thought this was the collective name for a group of vampires but now I’m not too sure. I read somewhere that ‘bleed’ is more suited… a bleed of vampires appeared out of the darkness and within a split second I was surrounded. “Gack!” I managed to shout as one of them sank his sharp teeth deep into my neck…

Quack. When I walk around the lake I meet lots of ducks, and this is what they say.

Rack. This is what I do to my brains when I can’t think of what it is that I am trying to think of. This sounds like it should hurt, but it doesn’t, although it kind of does at the same time.

Snacks… yum!

Tracks. Favourite pieces of music.

Wacky – please refer to crackpot.

Yack. What I tend to do, but try not to do, on my blog. As in yackety yack. Talking nonsense. No, I backtrack! Try is not in my vocabulary.

Zack. I think I do not know any Zacks. But a thought is a part of me, so there’s the (slightly tenuous) link.

And there they are – my A to Z of Acks.

In a dimension adjacent to this one…

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is blogging about blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is reading about blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is writing about reading about blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is reading a blog about writing about reading about blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is writing a blog about reading a blog about writing a blog about blogging.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is wondering about someone in a dimension adjacent to that one.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is blogging about someone in a dimension adjacent to that one.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is reading a blog about someone blogging in a dimension adjacent to that one.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is writing about someone reading a blog about someone blogging in a dimension adjacent to that one.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is writing about someone writing about someone reading a blog about someone blogging in a dimension adjacent to that one.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is realising that someone in a dimension adjacent to that one, is writing a blog about the blog they are writing about someone reading about a blog in another adjacent dimension.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is pondering the complexities of parallel dimensions.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is taking time out.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is blogging about thoughts and where they can lead us.

In a dimension adjacent to this one, someone is blogging.

Just blogging about anything, everything and nothing.

In a dimension adjacent to this one.

 

Interview with the vampire

Sometimes you find yourself in the most surreal of situations. You have to ask yourself whether things are real or imaginary. Take this for instance…

Clyde Caspian of The Northern Star newspaper caught up with me at lunchtime today. I was walking around the lake when he jumped out at me from one of the pathways from the main road. I was startled, but nowhere near as much as he was. Apparently, he hadn’t jumped, but tripped over a root from one of the trees that was slightly uncovered at the edge of the path. If I was any further along, he’d have flattened me, but luckily I wasn’t and he didn’t.

“Tell me,” he said, just after putting his sunglasses on correctly after his stumble, and in his brisk journalistic tone, “what are you doing around here at this time of the day?” It was 13.30.

“Walking” I answered – I’m always polite, if slightly apprehensive when asked strange questions – I continued, “It’s my lunch”

“Oh,” he said, sounding slightly intrigued, “Do you normally go for lunch around here without anything to eat?”

“On a Friday, yes” I said, “I find it very relaxing.”

“What do you feel about the daylight?” He had taken a pen out of his inside coat pocket, and was reaching for something else. His notebook.

“I think it’s brighter today than it has been” I watched as he wrote this down.

“So, you are telling me that you find today’s daylight brighter than normal. How does that make you feel?”

“Erm, fine,” I had to squint as the sun appeared from behind a cloud, and shone directly into my eyes. I dashed under the shade of one of the large trees so that I could see clearly again. “Sorry,” I said to Clyde, “That was bright then.”

A strange look crossed Clyde’s face, and in the shade and through his sunglasses, I could make out his eyes – he was staring directly into my eyes. An extremely strange stare it was too! Very weird.

“Could you confirm that you find the sunlight uncomfortable?” His pen was poised.

“That was a little, then” I responded. Clyde drew a huge tick onto the page.

“Does it make you… cross?” Clyde now had a strange smirk on his face.

“Not really,” I smiled.

“Does it not… burn?” Stern look now, still with the intense stare.

“Well, it did a little then”

“So, you are confirming that you find that the sunlight in the daytime burns you?”

“Well, not so much at this time, but it did a little then” Clyde was now scribbling intently into his notebook. His hand was shaking.

“Tell me… garlic. How does it affect you? And holy water – how about that?”

“I’m fine with garlic, but haven’t had much experience with holy water”

Even more scribbling.

“You look pale,” I thought he was now getting a little personal. “I suppose it isn’t very often that your kind get out in the daytime”

“I’m out everyday” I replied, maybe too indignantly, “And not only at this time too! I’m paler than usual because it is January and I haven’t used my sun bed for a while.”

Clyde twitched again. “So, you use artificial sunlight to keep your skin in that condition”

“No, I…” He interrupted me before I could say anything else.

“And you don’t like holy water. I knew it!”

“No, I…” Yet again, another interruption. You can’t get a word in with some of these journalists.

“No need to say anymore. This story will be big. You are now marked.”

I was totally and utterly confused for a couple of minutes. I looked up and Clyde was gone. Vanished without a trace. My neck on the left hand side was itchy, and I had a small spot of blood on my fingertip when I itched it. And I was thirsty. Very thirsty.

I decided to go back to work as the sun was starting to give me a headache.

That was earlier. Now that it’s dark, I’m fine, and I’m ready to go out for the night. And, even if I do say so myself, I look pretty good this evening…

>KnockKnock<

Hello!

>Knock< >Knock< >Knock<

HELLO!

>Knock< >Knock< >Knock< >KNOCK<

HELLO!

>Knock< >Knock< >Knock< >KNOCK< >KNOCK<

>Creeeeeeeeak<

That’s odd… there’s no-one there.

>Clunk< >Clickerty< >Cluck<

***

It’s true. The more you write certain words, the funnier they look.

It’s also true that I will write about absolutely anything.

Well, almost anything.

I haven’t written about who was doing the knocking, have I?