Images can be a combination of reality and reflection. In this case the inside and the outside of my house, through a window. The window glass interacts with the main protagonists; me, the lens and mother nature. And light, the secret ingredient, does it's own thing..... Mysterious moments like this come . . .
Light
The sun shone on Christmas Day and beamed long rays of golden light into the house. The slow unfolding of the meal, the unwrapping of gifts, the popping of corks seemed more relaxed and cheery this year. At it's heart these 12 days are a hibernation away from the world, some solace in the darkest . . .
Just a little bit of magic and a whole lot of hope……..
Christmas is here! I hope you find some solace in retreating a little from reality. Adventure stories and films, riding a one horse open sleigh across the snow, seeking out the magic in frosty dew drops. I will . . .
Winter sets in and the elves are pretty busy….
Winter has set in and I am now counting the weeks until the Solstice and the gradual return of light. In the dark evenings I burn candles to cheer our hearts, cosy up with a blanket and find I am craving chocolate! On waking, I love the silvery glow and a particular kind of stillness that announces another frosty . . .
It’s dark, late and time is running out….
It's dark, it's late and the November evening light is seeping away. We had no summer and now out of season, a patch of hedgerow is coming back into bloom. While hoping to snap berries and rosehips, here I am taking dark photos of blackberry blossoms and buds. Sprinkles of life in the shadowy withering tangle....Late . . .
The stillness of a meditating Hare
It's 10 years ago, our first night in the new house and I can't sleep for excitement. It is such a quiet spot and all I can hear is the sound of the endless silence ringing in my ears. I can't stop myself listening and trying to hear something I can recognise. But in no time I am hearing things that are not there at . . .
Dawn embrace
It's early, 4 am. It's going to be a good day, the darkness is a kind of blue. A spooky mist is rising from the lake. As the sun starts to brighten in the east it gradually takes on a warm tinge. It is very cold but the wafts of mist promise the warmth of summer. The small cauldron of the lake is steaming into life this May morning. Two swans . . .
December dusk from my window
When it is over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply . . .
