It’s gone. It just went.
My mind is totally blank.
Nope, can’t think of a
This is really weird. I guess even small time writers can get writers block, but my notebook is slowly filling with garbage, trying to find a decent haiku. Maybe I need a break, or maybe I go back to finding an image and shoe-horning in appropriate words? There may be more radio silence while I sort this out in my head.
Ice cracks underfoot.
Birds fluff their feathers for warmth.
Blue sky and cold sun.
I may have mentioned before that I prefer the cold to the hot weather. Today has been around freezing point, with clear blue skies. Difficult not to think the sun is laughing as it shines its cold light. Unfortunately no snow as yet, despite all the weather forecasts raising my hopes, so this image is from last year on Wollaton Park.
Sometimes I listen
To what others have to say.
And sometimes I change.
Notice anything different? The haiku and the image are not related at all? I have been doing this all wrong, starting with the image and making a string of syllables fit. It means that although the images are ok, the haiku are often engineered to fit, and not really all that good. So I am going to try and change. I am going to try and put more into the haiku, and if there is not a fitting image then the image will have to stand alone. A bit of eye candy if you like. Let’s see how it goes. Wish me luck.
A murder of crows
May not lead to a murder.
But you never know…
Not sure that two is enough to make a murder, but I could hardly whistle up a couple of spares. So for this purpose two is a murder.
Just a happy chance encounter along the banks of the canal in Bude.
The quiet chancel,
Subtle tones of peace and calm.
Final resting place
I confess I had to look up what the area of a church in front of the alter is called, but now I know I can add it to the other pieces of useless trivia I store away. As you can maybe guess this is another image from the church at Strelley,
The Saracen’s head.
Reminder of darker times.
A grotesque pillow.
Strelley Church, on the outskirts of Nottingham, is only rarely open to walk around. It has a long and varied history, and a several relics. The image shows (I think…) the tomb of the heads of the De Strelley family. Can you tell I wasn’t listening?
Anyhow, Mrs De Strelley has a hound as a pillow, and Mr De Strelley is using the executed head of a Saracen. Apparently it was a thing.
Low level flying,
Wings brush the tops of the waves.
Freedom of the skies.
Taken from the boat from Seahouses out to the Farne Islands. Although the main objective was to see the puffins, the boat trip was the perfect opportunity to try out the bird recognition function on the camera.
Unsightly repairs
And imperfect symmetry.
Growing old is tough.
Strelley Hall on the ouskirts of Nottingham is a fairly blocky and uninteresting building. The only really intersting part is the entrance. On the positive they do really good afternoon teas, and the courtyard has a number of small shops selling unusual crafts and gifts. More importantly it has a Gallery that just might have some of my photographs for sale. Just saying… 🙂
Broken arches stand.
Reminders of the Abbey,
Echoes of the monks.
Whitby Abbey in North Yorkshire. Whitby has strong connections with Bram Stoker and the world of Dracula. Goth weekends at Whitby are a marvel to behold, with striking outfits and makeup. Unfortunately I don’t have any images from said weekends, so you have the ruins of the Abbey instead. Sorry.
Catch a falling leaf,
Luck will follow you all year.
You might have missed some?
Getting out in nature is good for you. Especially if you are able to catch a falling leaf before it hits the ground. It is supposed to be lucky, but on this occasion my wife was waiting a loooong time for nothing. Then as soon as she gave up, one solitary leaf drifted down exactly where she had been standing. I swear the trees were laughing.
