I felt anxious and grey during June, perhaps mirroring the inclement winter weather and the times, but here I am, on the eve of July. Soon the wattle will be blooming gold and the landscape will extrude from its current camo coat of green and brown.
I barely managed to pick up the camera but spurred on by my supporters, the crested pigeons, I began. Fluffed up, a crested pigeon warms up in a pocket of sun.
I did my civic duty and had a Covid test today. Nothing serious. I have a few mild symptoms – runny nose, sore throat. Nothing to write a blog about. But, alas. Anyway, I went to a drive-in testing centre. The outside temperature was a cool 4o celcius. Kudos to all the workers who were freezing their arses off to provide this service. Anyway, anyway, I was listening to the radio and there was discussion about the significant level of vaccine hesitancy in the over 50 years age group (ie. the cohort who have been prioritised for Astra Zeneca vaccine in Australia), and the possible need for a marketing jingle to encourage vaccine uptake. Unfortunately that got me thinking. [Truly awful poetry warning]
Parts of eastern Australia are currently experiencing record rainfall and some areas have been severely affected by flooding. Want a flood story? Not much to tell really. Scared the crap out of me though.
My world is messy, complicated and dark. I seek the shadows. The dark is where I think, rest and play. The dark is music and art. It gives depth to light. The sun is now, but darkness is tomorrow. The sun is here, but darkness looks beyond. Day is youthful bravado, night is as old as time.
Guest host of this week’s Lens-Artists challenge, Anne Sandler, has invited photographers to focus on the small things and she has provided a number of useful tips for macro/micro and close-up photography. Thanks, Anne. Unfortunately, I got carried away and so I might not have stuck strictly to the brief, preferring once more to go with arty-farty rather than teeny weeny. Thankfully my True Love had something up his … oh, never mind!
I have redeemed myself though with some wee poetry – haiku, of course – and some vulgar photography humour. My friend has asked me to keep writing and who am I to refuse?
October in Canberra (Australia) – We scent a change. Spring is so poetic.
It has been six days since Canberra recorded an infection of Covid-19. Canberrans send their best wishes for the gentleman’s recovery. With only one active case in my small city, my attention has turned to living.
It has been a relatively wet and stormy month in the national capital – the wettest October in 44 years. On those days when the sun shone, I focused on my garden and on my mosaic projects. For these reasons, and due to magpie hazards, I have had little time for exploration, but it being spring, there are always flowers, and wouldn’t you know, not one rainy day photo in sight. Here’s October.