I get my camera back tomorrow, after dropping it and being without my beloved for several weeks. I have been quite lost without it. This image is one of the last I took with it.
The tree with the last of summer’s leaves hanging on it seemed so poignant. The reluctance to give up on summer, I think. The delicateness of the few remaining leaves contrast against the stark winter-ready branches. It is as if the leaves sense it is futile to remain clinging to the tree but do so anyway, just as we too hold on to summer long after the warmth has gone. I am sure that by the very next day the remaining leaves would be all but gone, but in this moment, they held their ground for one more day. I like that.
I saw this tree… a burst of yellow against the very dry, parched and muted hills and countryside. I am not usually a fan of yellow, but there was something about the shape of the tree, the intense colour, its isolation in an empty field and its bright presence that just really grabbed my attention.
Yellow is a hard colour to work with. A hard colour to love. Yet sometimes it shines like gold, smiles like a sunflower and warms your heart like a sunshine ray beaming down just on you…The tree made me smile. That’s a good enough reason to love it.
A different mountain. On a road less travelled by me . Some of my ancestors come from here. It is misty and green like where I live now, and there is a mountain and cows, so it is a familiar scene. There is a mighty river. It is spectacularly beautiful.
But there is no sea near here. No sea smell. No salt spray. No endless blue horizon. No ever changing waves. No sand. No sound of the sea.
I may be from the green valley and my ancestors may have dwelt in the shadow of the mountain, but the sea rages through my veins and without it I am lost.