Category: photography
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2 December 2021: Through the Window
A bit of snow and ice through the window this morning. Image ©Misky 2021
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A Few Days in The New Forest
22 October: I’m back from a few days of splashing around the New Forest (gosh, what a soggy storm that was the other night!), inhaling the fresh air, relishing no crowds, and a bit of exercise. I do love these ponies, who couldn’t care what we humans, hurried and rushing about, are up to or…
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After the Storm
Autumnal leaves from an English Oak tree. Click the image to view full size detail. ©Misky 2021
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The Imprint of Northleach Church
The Imprint of Northleach Church It seems to methe weight of years,your deedsyour tears arepressed against your back. Do they stillpress?Do you stillbend to the will of worms? By day, your shadow is yourcover, and by nightlights are lit, andyour shadow hovers. Do you hear ourlaughter,footsteps,lover’s whispersas you wait for God’s return, that promise ofa…
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25 August: One Liner Wednesday
Rain filled the old steel bucket, and I emptied it onto the parsley, watched it spread around the chives, the basil, and the thyme, and I recalled that fisherman on the coast casting his net over the sea. Written for Linda Hill’s One Liner Wednesday. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter Prose and image ©Misky…
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SoCS At The Lake
Stream of Consciousness at the Lake I walked around the lake this afternoonwith a view to having a coffee anda sticky bun to show for the effort,and two boys came fast behind meon their scooters. One says to the other, Do you have dinosaurs? to which the other says,Yeah, I have lots…
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Miz Quickly’s 20 August
Amongst the Blood of Gods I don’t deny my feet a winding path.I take a step. Hear the crack of driedwitness to the ages – these trees thatreach cathedral tall. Heavy and quiet. Like a wood-paneled room with birdswatching from wind-creaking limbs.The air is stiff. Crinkled. Centuries old. No one. But me here. Notwithstanding…
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Miz Quickly’s 18 August
If Fishes Were Wishes, I’d be Italian If I were Italian,all my grandchildrenwould call me Nona,and I’d make lotsa and lotsapasta in a magicalcooking pot.But I’m not.Italian.So I’m staring at these chipsand this filleted fish,making wish after wishthat I was.Italian. Miz Quickly’s 18 August prompt throws us a hook. Photos. Tie these photos to fairytales, she…
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for 6WSP “Seasons”
The old beech on the hill. Note: This old beech is at the Reigate Hill Fort with its napoleonic armoury. Fearing that Napoleon’s troops would invade London, a string of hill forts were built as the city’s last defence. Image is my own. Written for Six Word Saturday Prompt
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Miz Quickly’s 12 August: Take 2
The Rise of the River Arun The water just kept risingThe water racing to the seaThe sea, a sprawling brimThe sea, a solitude’s realmA realm of whip-quick wavesA realm of oar and strokeStroke across this surging waterStroke it like a scimitarScimitar of a lion’s clawScimitar to slice the deepDeep into its primal judderDeep into its…
It's Still Life 