... to try to get to the root of the matter,
and to wait for something to emerge (or even burst...).
All's well, just a bit taken up. See you soon.
Gorgeous photos, as always. Busy as always, you and me...
It took me ages to get that first photo. I thought it was a view from a frosty window...until I saw the green at the side!
Who knew a little puddle could be a portal to a secret world? I'm in love with the place!
I've always loved puddles and these are wonderful puddle photos!!
wonderful photographs!That tree...its roots...is incredible.love the last one too.Be wellBreathe...in and out
I love the reflection. You just captured it wonderfully. Brava.And the bubbly one. I'm sure I'm wrong, but doesn't it look as if a little reddish bird is sitting on a limb, reflected to the left of the bubbles?I'm so disappointed I won't be meeting you! If something changes and I end up with an extra day....
Ha, the old turning the reflection upside-down trick, works every time!I regrettably only had the small camera on me when I saw the tree roots, I might go back some time. I've never seen a cross section of roots like that, growing right through the rock...3)Frogspawn on a waterlily stem (a curled dead waterlily leaf, Sheila), clouds, a goldfish top left!Thanks people.
I never realised The Loveliness Of The Puddle before! Thanks for opening eyes yet again...
Stunning photographs, especially the first. Had me drooling. Well done.
Yes, I thought it was a view through a frosty window too when I first looked at it.Wonderful photos. Don't be too busy and disappear for too long!
Yes wonderful photos. I love puddle shots too.
It's all been said about that first remarkable picture. So here it is being said again!
This might be a good place for the Jeanette Winterson on Ted Hughes's poetry. Since I'm assuming that all of your readers are nature lovers, too!". . .it is misleading to think of Hughes as a nature poet, a label, like all labels, that strangles his scope. Rather, he is a poet working to bring back into touch two continents of experience that have tectonically separated. The natural world and its rhythms, he believed, are as necessary to humankind as any amount of progress, and so Hughes uses his own body as a bridge, feeling everything he writes through the shock of being there -- he fished the rivers, crouched under the trees, had the adventure-spirit of a wild man. Then he translated nature's hermetic language into one we can read. (Remember that, in fairytales, the one who finds the treasure is the one who can understand what is said by the birds or the wind . . .)"
What perfect photos for your post, as always.Keep well.
Wonderful pictures! Yes I initially missed the green at the side of the puddle and thought it was a frosted window.Great work :-)
I love the top photo! Love those reflections (and got it right away, but you know I do the same!). Mad for spring to arrive here. Sigh. Happy Easter!
You know, I keep thinking about that picture. I've decided that you've gone somewhere magic where green grows inside--makes marvelous wallpaper--the houses, and so that picture is not a puddle at all but a frosty peephole out at the next house.
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