No, I wasn’t fast on focus and click. These droplets are caught on a ravel of spiders’ webs
Rain or Shine, another title from the list Maria Antonia has given us for #2022picoftheweek
No, I wasn’t fast on focus and click. These droplets are caught on a ravel of spiders’ webs
Rain or Shine, another title from the list Maria Antonia has given us for #2022picoftheweek
I swore on that day
Never would I run away
But beat me, thrash me
I would stay
Such a fool was I
Keeping faith come what may
Ever hoping
Praying
That his violence he’d put away
But determination broken, bones in disarray
On my promise I did renege
49 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Renege
This is not my story but belongs to several women I have known. My heart goes out to those who suffer. I pray you find the strength to leave
Billy and Trev were training to be special agents. This summer their project was to use the found-environment to pass secret messages.
The railway company were not pleased to discover the theft of one of their signs. But they decided not to press charges when the boys returned it.
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN
Late summer seems the best time to take photos of dragonflies and butterflies…and a few berries. Enjoy
Like alien beings, these dragonflies…
Dragonflies…getting it on
And beautiful the butterflies
Comma, wings closed
And wings slightly ajar…
More Speckles…
And to finish, this fascinating water plant!
Second stage of walk on 26th August 2022.
Emerging from Damgate Carr the sun seems shocking and all seems open. The path here is lined with hemlock. Do not touch. Poisonous. It grow to 8ft.
We pass Old Mother Willow…
Where we disturb two deer…. I swing round, camera raised, point, click, no time to focus. I’m surprised I got this
The next few 500 yards or so is between reeds. Love reeds this time of year. They display so many colours
And it’s out into the pastures., and back to the water..
Our pasture is shared…
And over a stile and onto a track. By now that shade is most welcome…
This is arable land with fields that roll gently up and away from us
We leave Weavers Way to go instead to Tunstall Mills. Until these mills were built (early C19th) all these grazing marshes were water-logged swamps for half the year. Now electric pumps keep them dry, channeling the water into drains
And here is the first mill, barely visible. I visited here in 2017. For info on the mills and clearer photos, see HERE
This is the Black Mill, the older of the two. They grow good ivy around here!
This second mill was built early C20th. This is as close as I could get…an overgrowth of nettles deterred me!
And so to return to Acle to catch a bus home
Hope you enjoyed. We certainly did. Photos of details on Tuesday. See you then.
A week after the summer solstice, sunrise was still very early. But I’d been on that beach, pacing and waiting. And I had been rewarded. Now I was crossing the beach, back to the prom to go home. Time to take a few moments to play…
Time to Play, another title from the list Maria Antonia has given us for #2022picoftheweek
A sprained wrist, braced, supported, over-exerted
A twisted ankle, wrapped and splinted, torn with a slip and a rick
A calf inflamed, iced to cool it, rested, warmed to relax it, don’t jump that wall again
But despite the relief at that final parting
Despite the ease of freedom, still hurting
Squeezed and ripped, a broken heart, no bandage for that
61 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Bandage
Old Jack…you know, I haven’t seen him for a year, maybe more.
He used to sit here, on this seat on the bank, every day. He’d sit here and feed the ducks.
Always ducks around his feet, scooping up the bread he’d bring, pooping it out everywhere.
I know some folks got uppity about Jack feeding the ducks, making this stretch of bank messy and busy with flies but he didn’t do any harm, sitting here with his bag of bread, a bottle of his favourite tipple tucked under his arm.
Now all’s left is his bottle.
I miss you, Jack.
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN