Whatever did we do before we had cameras on our phones? How did we hang on to the marvellous images we happened upon on our way to the shops?
Perhaps if I’d had a proper camera with me, I might have taken more care over framing and focus and produced a slightly better image of this nightshade plant. But at least the phone was able to capture an idea of the glorious juxtaposition of colours.
Continue reading “bittersweet dreams”
The other morning, after heavy rain in the night, one of the neighbour’s shrubs – perhaps a Cotinus coggygria – was covered in a silver sheen of water droplets, the effect of which I fear I have utterly failed to capture in the photos here.
I was reminded that when I first lived in California I was convinced that the weather there was perfect: sunny and warm all day and rain every night. I’m not sure how long I’d been there before I realised that in fact the song is right – seems it never rains in Southern California – and the cool green lawns were due to timer-activated sprinklers.
Continue reading “a world in a drop of rain”
I’m far too old for school myself and have no children, grandchildren, nephews and nieces, etc. – in fact, I don’t think I even have any neighbours with any of the aforementioned minors – and I haven’t been a teacher for a couple of decades. Despite this, my email inbox is full up with Back to School promotions and special offers.
I’ve been visiting my aged mother and this morning, long before I would normally consider it a civilised time to have a conversation on a Sunday, I found myself caught up in a discussion of yesterday’s unseasonal weather, school holidays, and the fact that mothers must be glad if the children are going back to school tomorrow. I think the implication was that it must be hard to keep children entertained when they can’t go outside and play.
Continue reading “back to school”
The day’s nearly over, but I still have time to publish a post commemorating the anniversary of the birth of the Pre-Raphaelite artist Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones. The main image above is a detail from a stained glass window he designed for St. Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham.
I knew I had a photo of one of the Burne-Jones windows, but had forgotten that it was entitled The Last Judgement. Now its subject matter has reminded me of the sky I photographed one evening recently, which was a beautiful, if somewhat disturbing, brimstone yellow.
Continue reading “day’s end”
Thistledown and spider silk;
standing on the kitchen step
she combs sunshine
through her early-morning hair.
don't confuse the narrator 