Photo Haiku

Haiku Blog – Pictures and Words

  • Piglets

    Not twelve apostles,
    I counted them all myself.
    So disappointing.

    A few years ago we went on a short tour of eastern Australia and New Zealand. Whilst in Melbourne it was a must to visit the Great Ocean Road and the Twelve Apostles.
    Originally called the Sow and Piglets, the name was changed to try and attract more tourists. As there were only ever nine, and now seven, of the stacks and as Australia is a largely secular country that makes little sense to me. So I have entitled this post Piglets.

  • Canary

    The Canary Girls,
    Filling shells with TNT
    Risking life and limb.

    This street art, in Beeston Notts, commemorates the work of the so-called Canary Girls. These worked in dangerous conditions filling shells with TNT for the war effort in World War One. In 1918, an explosion of 8 tons of TNT in the Chilwell factory killed 134, of which only 32 could be positively identified.
    They were called the Canary Girls because working with the TNT caused their skin and hair to take on a yellowish orange colour.

  • Robin

    What you looking at?
    Don’t disturb me, I’m eating
    A snack in the snow.

    Apologies for the grammar, but I have a rules-based mind that will not allow me to deviate from a 5-7-5 sequence, so ‘what are you…’ was never going to fly. At least it wasn’t ‘Wat’chu looking at’. Or maybe that would be better?
    Every winter, when the snow has fallen, these robins are keen to take seed from any source. They are not so timid and will happily hop on to your hand to be fed. That is an amazing experience, to be trusted by something so fragile, and when they land they are virtually weightless.

  • Sapling

    In a darkened wood
    A stray shaft of warm sunlight
    Lights a lone sapling.

    A walk in spring looking for bluebells, turning a corner to find this young sapling sunbathing. I think this image possibly turned out better than the ones of the bluebells.

  • Hidden

    One chair, no windows.
    A retreat from noise and haste,
    Hidden on the hill.

    We found this deserted shack nestled into the hillside on the island of St. Martins, one of the Scilly Isles. It seems like it was/is occupied, but no windows. Maybe they are hidden behind the long shutter? Maybe the occupant is a vampire, and just doesn’t like the light? We had no garlic, so didn’t investigate that closely. You never know.

  • Still

    A still day at sea,
    One red sail set against blue.
    Looking calm becalmed.

    Minimalist. So not a lot to say really. A single yacht taking life easy off the coast of the Scilly Isles.

  • Castles in the Sand

    Rising from the dunes,
    Defence from a bygone age,
    But still standing strong.

    Like Wales, the northeast coast of England is awash with old castles. Some are total ruins, but some are still actually lived in. One is Bamburgh Castle, sat atop sand dunes and looking out over the North Sea to the Farne Islands.

  • Minster

    In the darkest night
    The Minster stands in the light.
    Road to salvation?

    Southwell Minster in Nottinghamshire. I came to photograph the moon installation in the Minster, but the twin steeples of the church are quite distinctive, so a mono night shot had to be tried. Luckily the weather was dry, because you have to get pretty low to the ground in order to get the full height within the entrance gate, The illuminated pathway was a bonus.

  • Fence?

    What point is a fence
    Which has nothing to keep in?
    Just a field with posts.

    After an evening in North Yorkshire trying to photograph the galactic core not very well. Re-phrase that, I was trying to photograph it better, it just turned out not very well. I may or may not post my best attempt.
    Anyway… the following morning, on the way home, I had to cross the moors in the fog. This fence loomed out of the shroud, totally wrecked, so I had to stop and try to get an image.
    And am I wasting my time adding the option to comment? Let me know in the comments….

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  • The Stream

    In the forest’s gloom
    Tumbling over broken rocks.
    A force of nature.

    No, not the Scream. I am not Norwegian and I can’t paint.
    I sometimes wonder if photographers should have a recognisable style, so you know their work automatically. Not that it matters in most cases, certainly not in mine, but I think a quick review of the posts will show I don’t have a style at all. Like the stream above, I go with the flow and capture whatever appeals. Where did that come from? I was going to preface this drivel by saying the image is not my normal style. Then I realised I didn’t have one, so it matters not a jot.
    Comments/opinions welcomed.

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