Some readers have noticed that I haven’t been quite as constant, nor, perhaps, as committed to the blog over the last few weeks; I’ll admit that there have been things going on that have distracted me, but hope these are now mostly settling down and I will be able to re-focus.
I’ve said before that I’m not fond of birds, but they are a recurring theme of my poetry. I don’t, however, have many photos of birds as they so seldom stay still long enough to capture on film. (Hmm… I don’t suppose we capture anything on film anymore if we use digital cameras, so maybe that phrase must be considered an inelegant variation.)
I do a little better with photos of bugs and insects as they often seem less bothered by the approach of a camera lens and will sometimes sit still for hours on the same flower head. Continue reading “wings and things”
There was a beautiful blue sky earlier today, the kind that makes you wish you could just reach up and take flight, to soar with the white-winged gulls.
I’ve said before that I’m no good at taking pictures of birds, but I did manage to take pictures of some other things with wings in the wild park near where I live. Continue reading “things with wings”
It’s September already and although we’ve had a fair bit of sunshine this week, there begins to be a decidedly autumnal hint in the air. This morning, though, before the rain started, I was surprised to come across this glorious reminder that it really is still summer: not just a golden sunflower, but a – fairly well-camouflaged – bee.
Since I took the picture a few hours ago, the wind has got up and the rain has come in earnest, but I am safe and warm indoors so I’m not really complaining. Despite the temptation, then, I didn’t feel I could justify calling this post “last of the summer whine”.
For no particular reason, the rosebay willow herb is one of my favourite summer flowers. The name is one I remember learning as a child, along with so many other pink and purple blooms: meadow crane’s-bill, mallow, cosmos, buddleia…
I haven’t spent much time in the UK over the last 20 years and I am struck now by the willow herb spires lining the river banks and towering above the long grasses in the fields and meadows.
There seems to be something very aspirational – and inspirational – about how they point to the blue sky: I get the impression they are telling me there is no limit to the possibilities.
A closer look reveals a host of insects busy among the flowers: a reminder that without hard work ambition may count for nothing.