0805/7th October 2022 Before I'd even had a chance to look at yesterday's pictures, Grant was urging me to abandon this morning's chores to go outside and take some more. It's getting a bit out of hand and I've looked at so many now, things are starting to blur. But everything changes, from minute to … Continue reading How many ways?
1730/9th April 2022 Yesterday, I boldly pronounced, was a dreary no-hoper. By now I ought to know better. Though I did still keep my eyes on a window. And at 1740...hmmm...is that blue? Yes, indeed. It was late, but there was hope after all. For the past three weeks, my eyesight has been screwy. More … Continue reading Raiders!
0715/26th March 2022 Such a promising start... Even the Moon was smiling... . Oh! Looking through last year's photographs I am struck by how colourful they were by comparison to our currently drab vista, the single bright patch being the snow shovel. . Far too soon to tidy the shovel away. The photograph on left … Continue reading 20,21,22
18th March 2022 Every time I take photographs I hear my father's voice, disapproving mostly. He was a professional photographer and considered carefully every image that he captured. He took light readings and carefully adjusted his lens. Often he waited hours for the sun to appear. His photographs were always good. I treasure those that … Continue reading Gifts
After the early frosts and cold, clear days, stormy skies are back, bringing a return to milder weather. The resultant colours are proof of how much difference climate makes. Part of my daily routine takes me outside after breakfast and often I come back in to grab my camera, as I did today. While there … Continue reading Layers
August 29th, everything normal in Cambridge. Just a week ago, we'd had the 12 minute weather phenomenon! Things were going along as they do in a Cambridge afternoon, when suddenly things began to beep. Not the "Hal" beep (our temperamental washing machine), or the microwave, but a rather shrill, urgent "All Hands on Deck" beep. … Continue reading Not a tornado
Just because my parents were compulsive busy-bodies, it doesn't mean that everyone else is, but I always wonder if people nearby notice me constantly rushing about with my camera. -"There she is again, that old woman on the hill, I think she's batty." Or more likely, in this part of the world, they would say … Continue reading Losing one’s baggage