I don’t like words that I don’t know how to pronounce and don’t know what they mean. “Fleeting” makes more sense.
Until I learn them, that is. So thank you for the lesson. Still, I had to break it down: into “Eva” (and Adam) and “nescent”. I like the definition of the latter: “just coming into existence and beginning to display signs of future potential.”
Here is a case of “past potential”, if only I had a camera. That is, here is the beginning of the poem about two snakes I encountered. We can call them Eva and Adam.
It can only be called a poem since it has been broken down in verse, to annoy those who say they don’t like poetry. To read it in full, you’ll have to click “read more” below and be transported to my new blog.
Last week I saw more snakes than in all four years before.
Three: first the couple and then one more, closer to home.
Dark, almost black they were.
From my spot on the station that I occupy daily
give or take
I notice them frolic in the tall grass in the sun
between the rails and the first house.
The moment described was fleeting indeed, with nobody to witness it and nothing to capture it with, except my mind. The photos are from the same location at other times.
Just add snakes.
Nothing as fleeting as something that didn’t get to be.
If you think of it, all our posts are pretty fleeting, or to use the new word I’ve learned, evanescent (isn’t that a band?). Here one day, as if gone tomorrow.
So come over there and make the snakes feel less “eva” and more “nescent” before they slither away. I’m pretty sure they are harmless.
Photo: © signature mmm
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: Evanescent