I found this scene just today, while travelling through a nearby area of this amazing county. I noticed evidence of recent high winds, and so I don’t expect we shall have scenes like this one for much longer, but it did seem to typify something which is so special about England. And, of course, that cloudy sky was changing by the minute, as England’s sky always does.
This picture seemed to sum up the recent weather, yesterday. But it made me think; can dull weather ever be beautiful? Of course, it depends what we mean by beauty, but mist has intrigued artists and photographers for a long time. It can add an almost enchanting depth to an otherwise unremarkable scene. Perhaps many of nature’s beautiful traits are not obvious at first.
While out for a few minutes’ walk in Wollaton Park yesterday, I hoped I’d get a picture or two that weren’t just the same old ‘autumn’ shots. The light was fading fast (and the park soon closing) when I came across this scene. It seemed a bit symbolic – as another year is nearly through, and autumn is well and truly here, these young deer remind us of how new life has entered the year, and how we shouldn’t give up hope in times of adversity and so much suffering in the world.
As the light fell, and the evening grew colder, they moved with incredible gracefulness – and silence!
The obvious, and yet amazing, thing to say about autumn leaves is that they are all different. Every single one. These hamamelis mollis leaves caught my attention last night.
We live in a commercialised world that tells us that perfection is beauty. But just take the time to look at nature, and you’ll see, in perceived imperfection, amazing beauty. What a lesson!
I found these flowers while out on a short walk yesterday (Saturday.) I’m not even sure what they are, but what struck me was the way this picture is symbolic of the turn of the seasons; there are still a few flowers around, but there are seed heads and fruits, too. Here, they sit side by side, just for now.
I only found this plant today. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. The lower, rounded, part of the flower heads varied between about 60 and 80 millimetres, and they weren’t particularly prickly. In fact, there were no spikes on these plants at all. Shortly after I came across these flowers, I found out that they were planted for the benefit of bees and butterflies – an idea I love!
This week, I wanted something that said something about my day on Saturday. Well, where I was, on 30 July 2016, nothing amazing happened. But, if we look at nature and the world around us, life need never be boring. So in this shot, I used the concept of ‘negative space’ to symbolise summer – the top branch of an apple tree, reaching into a vast clear sky, with just a few smeary clouds at high altitude. Looking up at cloudscapes of all kinds is a marvellous way to relax, yet sharpen your power of observation at the same time!
‘Filling the frame’ – the opposite photo technique – is also one I use and love a lot, but the ‘message’ is different, yes?
When I found this yesterday, the inherent patterns and shapes arrested me. I usually post flower pictures, which this one is, in a way, but with one important difference: the flower, as such, is dead. But never-the-less, it seemed to have both a visual and a symbolic beauty; visual beauty from shape and line, and symbolic beauty in that, here in death, we see the potential for so much more life, because of all those seeds.
I hope you won’t just get bored, when I keep posting pictures that fit the same theme! But this morning, I only had to step outside to find this – it’s actually part of a blueberry plant. That awesome and paradoxical combination of complexity, simplicity, and beauty in nature just absolutely stunned me, once again. Click on the image to enlarge it, and maybe, you’ll see what I mean.
I’m not going to post about Britmums Live, today, because a) lots of people will – and better than I could – and b) I need to get my breath back, so to speak, after such a blast!
One evening last week, I just felt the need to unwind in natural surroundings. Fortunately, I had the opportunity. I find there’s something very stabilising about looking at things in nature that are so much older than myself. This picture is, of course, once again a part of Wollaton Park, Nottingham. One or two of the original cedar trees, planted in 1588, the year of the Spanish Armada, still survive. To stand underneath one on a hot summer day and breathe the scent is truly inspiring, and makes me think about all sorts of things.
We tend to get wrapped up in ourselves (maybe I can speak for others along with myself.) Surely, it’s always good to welcome what lifts us out of this. Oh… perhaps there is a connection with Britmums, after all.
It's kind to share!
