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.
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.
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… 🙂
A simple door latch,
Access to old Hawker’s Hut.
Secret hideaway.
I will post a photo of Hawker’s hut to give wider context, but I really liked this detail of the entrance. Hawker’s hut is in Morwenstow, Cornwall, in England. It is a Grade 2 listed wooden building, and the smallest property owned by the National Trust. You will see it in all its small but perfectly formed glory soon….
Bridge across the Trent.
A thoughtful gift from Michael.
Hard to gift-wrap though.
A pedestrian bridge across the river Trent at Burton, a centre of beer brewing in the Est Midlands of England. A little flamboyant but it has stood the test of time.
Cold and so alone.
A sentinel in the mist
Waiting for the sun.
Less is more, more or less. A misty frosty morning in the park.
Ahead lies a path
The destination misted.
Turrets pierce the sky.
A misty morning on Wollaton Park in Nottingham. Out of sight to the right is the lake. The resident deer will wade in the lake to cool down. Not that I have seen them yet, but one day I will capture that image. Wollaton Hall is rising through the mist at the end of the path. Hard to believe this was once someone’s back garden!
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.
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.
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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