Lost in his own world,
Unaware and uncaring.
Just letting life flow.
One of the pleasures of landscape/seascape/nature photography is that you do have the opportunity to just turn inwards and get lost in the process of looking and finding compositions. Normally unhurried, the world just falls away as you focus on the scene unfolding in front of you. It is no wonder it is supposed to be good for your mental health.
What a waste of time
Preaching to those that won’t hear.
Life is just too short.
Sometimes the argument is just not worth it. Logic does not always win the day when beliefs or allegiances are built on distrust or even tradition. If people want to believe in chemtrails, or a flat earth, I am offering no response. Just let them.
This image is from a graveyard at Clovelly, and I just hope this guy is not trying to raise a zombie army.
Is it the dark side,
Or the light side in the shade?
Or could it be both?
The image is from the Witchcraft Museum in Boscastle, Cornwall. Is it a force of evil, or a misunderstood force for good, misunderstood and condemned? If you draw a 6 on a piece of paper, the person opposite will read a 9. Both are correct, it just depends on your point of view. The truth is not absolute, good and bad is relative. Terrorist or freedom fighter depends on which side of oppression you are on. Here endeth the lesson – sorry, I didn’t realise it was going this way when I started…
Life can be messy,
Weighed down by reality.
Rise free of the weeds!
This boat, in the harbour at Appledore in Wales, was clearly unused, and feeling the depression of abandonment. In my mind I saw the possibility that it would get its act together, rise up, and shrug off all the seaweed. Then when the tide came in, it would leave the harbour proud and defiant.
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.
