breathing grey mist through city streets;
he stamps in puddles
then laughs with sudden sunshine.
Yesterday’s post started with a black and white photograph of a dahlia. I took the picture because the flower was such a glorious colour – a bright and joyous pink. But when I took away the colours, I realised that the flower was still rather lovely.
So, since today is another grey day, and I have little to say, perhaps the thing to do is to look at some other fairly recent photos stripped of colour and see if that brightens things up.
Continue reading “another grey day”
I’ve been feeling a little washed out for much of this week, so was interested to read on the BBC that there is likely to be a lot of ‘flu around this winter.
As it’s only mid September, I seem to be ahead of the game and hope that means I won’t have to go through this again later in the season.
One sentence in the article particularly caught my eye. (I note it has been corrected since I took the screenshot).
When in doubt about what to post, it’s always easy to fall back on flower photography and love poetry.
And as I have a set of photos of love-in-a-mist at different stages of flowering, it seems appropriate to find some poems of the different stages of love.
It’s there in the air between them.
As hands sketch fragmented curves,
fingertips graze its surface.
They worry it with words,
map points along the borders.
Their tongues taste the edges
of possibility until they find its shape
in the space where their lips meet.
Although it’s still nearly three weeks until the equinox, the meteorologists say it’s already autumn. Certainly there are plenty of fruits and berries about on trees and bushes.
As I wandered round in the sunshine yesterday, camera in hand, wondering what to take photos of, my eye was caught by the magnolia tree. More specifically, by the seed pods in various stages of development.
Continue reading “gone to seed”
Although all the images in this post have something in common, I’m not sure that they are, strictly speaking, variations on a theme. That, I think, would imply that the theme had been chosen and the photos taken to illustrate it.
What really happened was that I was looking through the mass of photos I have taken recently trying to find connections: it was a post hoc selection, not premeditated.
Continue reading “on a theme”
I’m not sure exactly what variety the flowers in the top picture are, but I am pretty certain they belong to the campanula family.
It’s not the same variety as the ones that grew along the stone wall in the garden of my childhood home, whose flowers were much shallower – their delicate papery petals spread wide like fairy crinolines – but something about the shade of blue betrays their kinship. Those were were probably my favourite flowers; I learned the Latin name and never questioned its suitability.
Continue reading “looking up”