I went on the London Eye yesterday for the first time for quite a while. It was for work, and jolly nice too on a sunny afternoon.
Naturally I had to take a photo of the Shard:
and I thought I’d takea few more photos too while I was at it. Continue reading
I was just having a look at some of my photos from the summer and the luminosity of this held my attention.
Not being much of a gardener (though my beetroot is doing well!), I don’t know the name of the plant. But I am sure one of you will be able to help.
From a rise, we looked back and down to a field. It was shiny and looked a bit like bubble wrap. We wondered. Polytunnels perhaps?
Much later, as we started to gather our blackberries we were able to confirm our guess.
I was so pleased to get out and about walking last Saturday as that it was one of the things I had been looking forward to doing with Sue when she visited in August. It didn’t happen for reasons I hadn’t anticipated, and the non walk nagged and snagged at my thoughts. You know how it is when you have really been looking forward to doing something? The way in your mind you can feel the boots on your feet, see the greenery around you, smell the air, touch the bricks on the chapel you planned to visit, enjoy your companion’s enjoyment?
So not walking left a gap that felt like an unfulfilled promise.
Saturday’s walk was in Kent and with Sue, we had planned to walk in Surrey, taking in Compton with its lovely Watts’ Chapel. Continue reading
I live on island. OK, it’s a pretty big one; the largest in the British Isles as it goes, and I think that makes me British. Or maybe a Briton. The historical and geographical associations make me uncertain. I’ll call myself an islander.
For this week’s photo challenge, Sea, Sara Rosso asks, “what kind of emotions does the sea make you feel?”
Being an islander, the sea is always at my edges. It may be far away, out of sight, but it is a part of who I am. There is a programme on the BBC, a series, Coast, which reminds us that here in the British Isles we are never more than 72 miles from the sea. It is something we grow up with, a knowledge of its power, its tidal nature, its beauty. The sea has shaped our history, shaped us. I cannot imagine what it could be like to live in a landlocked country.
This photo was taken several years ago on Uist, a place I wanted to visit to see the sculpture trail. This piece is part of that trail, and I feel it shows the relationship islanders, whether their island is big or small, feel between sea and sky and land.
This is what the guide syas about it:
Reflections This sweeping ceramic tiled seat by Dingwall artist Colin Mackenzie is wrapped around natural rock outcrops and echoes the shapes and colours of its surroundings. Gentle ripples on the sand at low-tide are mimicked on its surface and the concrete structure is covered in specially made tiles, glazed to reflect the surrounding colours; aqua with splashes of greys and greens reflects the sand, water and rocks. Reflections is located at Claddach Baleshare and marks the old crossing place to Baleshare before the causeway was built.
Well, that’s a fairly good description of Newcastle, Co Down, as this picture illustrates.
Still it was a surprise to find this piece celebrating Percy French, the author of that song on the seafront. Continue reading