Wordless Wednesday: Sunlit Bluebells

Every Wednesday, all across the internet, bloggers post a photograph with no words to explain it. Here is mine.

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Changing Seasons 2016: March

This post is for Cardinal Guzman’s monthly Changing Seasons photography challenge. This year I’m photographing my favourite place in the village – the little wooded path alongside the wildflower meadow that runs down to the stream.

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The main feature during March has been the daffodils, which were much later to bloom beneath the shelter of the trees than in the gardens. They’re like little bursts of sunshine in flower form, brightening the area and cheering the spirit as you walk among them. Daffodils always make me smile.

As well as the daffodils there has also been the sight of the fresh spring greenery to enjoy. Many of the smaller trees and shrubs are opening their leaves, enjoying the light before the taller trees come into leaf and cast them into shade.

The evergreens also enjoy the spring warmth, stretching out new growth.

During March the wildlife has also become increasingly active. Birdsong is a constant soundtrack as you walk through the trees. Occasionally you’ll catch a flash of wings as a brave bird settles onto a branch nearby. Insects are also beginning to buzz and scurry.

I thought I’d finish off with a final gallery that offers a glimpse of what’s to come in next month’s post. Over the last week or so the first of the bluebells have started to flower. I’m now looking forward to the carpet of blue we’re certain to see during April.

I hope you enjoyed the little tour through my own little wonderland. I’d love to know what you think.

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FFfAW: Creations Studio

This post is for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) Challenge, run by Priceless Joy.  The FFfAW challenge is that you write a story of 75-175 words inspired by the photo prompt below. This week’s prompt was provided by Uday . Thank you Uday!

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Photo Prompt: © Uday

Creations Studio

The moment Tessa saw the strange doorway her world shifted out of focus. Thoughts stumbled, mired in tar; her surroundings faded to insignificance. She moved through a dreamlike haze, footsteps drawn inexorably closer until fingertips brushed wood. The door opened before her and she stepped inside. 

“What do you wish to create?” a voice intoned.

Tessa’s mind cleared. Heart racing and mouth suddenly dry, she retreated as a figure emerged from the shadows. “I… What?”

“All who find this place have something they wish to create.”

Images flashed, unbidden, through Tessa’s mind: a partner by her side; a child in her arms; a happy, loving family. It was as if the album of her deepest desires was rifled through by curious fingers.

“Ah. A perfect life.” The figure appeared at her side. Bony fingers touched her forehead.

The world dissolved.

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“You coming, Tess?”

Michael’s voice jolted Tessa from her revery. Smiling, she scooped their daughter into her arms and hurried to his side.

“Beware,” a voice whispered, “for even a perfect image bears shadows.”

Word Count: 175

To read the other entries, click the little blue frog!

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SPF: Memento

This story is in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, hosted by Alistair Forbes, that asks that you write a story / poem of around 200 words using the photo as a guide.

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Memento

She’d always wondered what was kept in the garage.

Frances clutched the key to her chest, curiosity battling with trepidation as she stood before the door. As a child she’d spent hours sitting outside, inventing stories as to why her father spent so long within. She’d imagined him as a spy, storing top secret documents; as a scientist, building a time machine behind unassuming walls.

Now her father was merely a memory and she had to accept there were far darker possibilities than those she’d once considered. Frances shook her head, chiding herself. There was only one way to find the truth.

Hand trembling, she turned the key.

Her breath caught in her throat. Shelves lined the room, all filled with achingly familiar objects that set long forgotten memories dancing. She reached out to touch a photograph; trailed fingertips over an old toy. The picture had been taken during a childhood holiday –  her mother laughing as she splashed in the sea. The toy had been her favourite, thought donated to a charity shop many years past.

Tears filled her eyes as she viewed the precious mementos of her father’s life. The truth was more beautiful than she could have imagined.

Word Count: 200

If you want to read other entries or upload you own, click on the little blue frog.

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Cee’s Oddball Challenge: Soaring

This post is for Cee’s Oddball Challenge, a photography challenge that asks for you to share pictures that don’t seem to fit any particular category. I’ve been looking at these shots for a while now, trying to decide what I could use them with – oddball seems appropriate.

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Flames dancing skywards

Challenging encroaching night

Bright dreams soaring free

Squggly flames

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