This is solitude to me. There is nothing around in the dark field and the trees are still and barren. While riding along on the highway a few nights ago, I noticed how beautiful the sky looked and was glad I had my camera phone with me, snapping a number of pictures as the car rushed on by. After a series of blurry pictures of no particular value, I finally got this one that captured this pink, purple, and blue canvas in fine detail. This picture seems so peaceful. There are no disturbances. As the cars on the highway rush by, people busy, busy with their lives, this field under a dreamy sky remains quiet and in solitude.
This is an even better example of solitude. The lone grave marking, a cross commemorating a war veteran of my town. The idea that no one else has been laid down to rest here is so poetic. The trees in the background against an all white sky paint an image of heaven for me. So tall and graceful. Solitude could not be described any better in my mind than having a cemetery all to oneself, undisturbed by other souls. There is always a cold, chilly feeling that goes through me whenever I walk by this. I can almost imagine the ghost of the war veteran rising up out of the grave, gliding over to the fence to speak to me, or just staring back at me from afar as I walk on by. The thought of walking into this field of peace and tranquility intrigues me. There are no sounds in this area except the soft whisper of the wind.