7-Day Nature Photo, Day Three

I’m going a bit further afield for day three of the nature photo challenge, to northern Ghana. This termite mound was more then twice my height of five-six and must have housed millions of little beasties!termitehill

Amy invited me to join the nature photo challenge, a photo a day for seven, of anything from the natural world. Today I’m inviting Sue, one of very few blogging friends I’ve been lucky enough to meet. She already posts the most wonderful photos of  nature in decay, beautiful images of flowers in all stages, so the challenge would be easy for her. If you’re too busy Sue,  it’s no problem, I understand how difficult it is to fit in a challenge!

7-Day Nature Photo, day two

My lovely blogging friend Amy has challenged me to join the 7-Day Nature Photo Challenge, begun by Ulli, and it’s right up my street.
The two branches of the river Teign rise on Dartmoor and meet at Chagford, flowing southeast to Teignmouth where it joins the English Channel. It’s a very pretty river, and at castle Drogo it runs through a steep valley. I took this photo down in that valley, half way from Drogo to Fingle Bridge, a beautiful spot.

fingle bridge

A well as posting nature photo each day for a week, I have to challenge a friend to join in. Today I’m choosing Meg, who’s spending a year in Warsaw, and enjoying a northern hemisphere spring. She has a very good eye and I loved her calligraphy branches today. No worries if you ‘re too busy Meg!

Half Light

Through a glass darkly.

This photo was taken on a sunny day, in a woodland glade, in a sculpture garden. It was actually a large frame with dark and distorting reflective glass, in blue shades.

Jabberwocky landSo, can you conjure up the Jabberwocky? I can, cackle, cackle, but just in case, here’s the poem, perhaps it will help.

Jabberwocky

By Lewis Carroll 1832–1898 Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
      The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.
Why does the text resonate with me, Krista wants to know? Well obviously that’s because I’m crazy.

 

A Double Challenge

For March, my friend Jude’s Garden Photo Challenge theme is wildlife in the garden. I don’t want to carp on about my ducks, but this is my second entry, I hope you’re suitably impressed Jude. April’s theme will be macro photography.

Damselfly The lovely and talented Amy has challenged me to join the 7-Day Nature Photo Challenge, begun by Ulli, and as it’s a four day weekend, I have time to do it, hooray! I thought my damselfly worked well for both. A couple of days ago, my friend and insect expert Sonel, posted  an amazing photo of a tropical damselfly from near her home in South Africa.

Today I’m going to ask Sylvia if she’d like to join in, she is surrounded by nature in her new home, some of it rather scarey. No problem if you’re too busy Sylvia!

 

Lazy Poet’s Thursday . . . Poem!

A few days ago, the lovely Isobel commented that I’m addicted to photo challenges. She’s right of course, I am, even my own weekly Thursday one. So this week, just for a change there’re no photo inspired haiku, just a little poem.

Totem

Twig legs, and wings collapsed like a fallen angel,

flown too early in this false spring of harsh, March winds.

Breast not red, but orange, flame extinguished now,

 the once piercing eyes, blank

issue a question .

Have I the courage to answer?

could I have fed this hungry yearling?

Skeletal, with moulting feathers,

starved, desperate, chilled and lost

with a cracked, fairy porcelain beak

 

No grassy resting place,

in a well-tended suburban border.

No crow will dine on her bones,

on that flagstone path in need of repair.

Rather, old Mr Jones scooping her precious remains,

into a Waitrose bag and the black wheelie bin.

 

This, my totem bird will never renew,

but her spirit has found release, a regeneration,

as my raw heart has revealed,

a new compassion for self, rebirth.

 

On my walk to work a few days ago I saw a dead robin on the path, I did a double take – seeing a dead bird is quite unusual. It made me cry, and I still have the image in my mind, this poem is my response.

Jo isn’t lazy, but she has posted a joyful, spring haiku this Thursday, it definitely cheered me up, thanks honey!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Want to Dance

If I danced whenever I want to, many more people would know I’m even crazier than they thought. Just a few days ago I was lamenting my inability to sing or play a musical instrument, she said ‘I bet you can dance Gilly’. She was right, I love dance in all it’s forms, but the very best kind is spontaneous.

kldance

 

when you’re moved by the beat

right there on the street

come on feel the heat

now get up on your feet

and dance with a perfect stranger