in blissful peace
enraptured by sunlight
awaiting the birds’
There’s a cherry tree in our new garden that we’ve nicknamed ‘the feeding tree’ because the birds seem to love it. I’ve already spent many pleasant hours sitting in the sun on the patio, with my camera pointing towards the tree. It’s given me lots of time to practice using my new 420-800mm lens. While we mainly have an abundance of sparrows, there have also been pigeons, great tits, robins and blackbirds spotted around it – though not all of these have stayed still long enough for me to photograph them!
I get a lot of shots like this:
Here are a few more pictures taken of the birds (yes, mainly sparrows – just the one pigeon) that did actually stay still long enough for me to photograph them:
This post is for Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge. This week’s theme is Gardens – a perfect theme, considering I’m currently enjoying taking lots of pictures in my new garden.
can you hear them?
fleeting peals of laughter
the joyful reflections of childhood games
of long forgotten adventures
held in the space’s fabric
memories existing in gossamer insubstantialility
absorbed by the earth
food for the
The garden of our new house has a couple of features that immediately sold the place to me. There is both a tree-house and a summerhouse. And there are numerous signs that they were both favourite sites for children’s games in the past – including wax crayon scribbles and abandoned toys.
As the youngest person now living in the house is my seventeen-year-old nephew, the garden no longer echoes with the sounds of children’s laughter. But the tree house and summer house both remain great places to photograph.
And to dream…
The summerhouse, now generally known as Pod, has become my place for writing. I can often be found sitting down at the bottom of the garden, with a cup of tea, a notepad, and a far away look.
Update: Since I started writing this post earlier today, we’ve had visitors – one of whom was a five-year-old boy. The garden seemed to welcome the sound of childish laughter, again. He rescued the seal (who is now called Super Seal) from the cargo netting, and before he left he insisted that I put him safely inside the tree-house for the night so he could keep warm.
Waiting for the Returning Tide
“Suzy would’ve loved it here,” Janet said, her gaze fixed on the panoply of vessels bobbing idly in their moorings. “She was always fascinated by boats. Do you remember? They filled the bathtub!”
“She was such a happy child. And that smile was so infectious. But she was always so desperate for adventure.” Janet halted, ‘if-onlys’ running through her mind as she listened to the seagulls cry. She sighed. “I should never have let her learn to sail.”
“I doubt you could have stopped her.”
“I could’ve tried.”
She lapsed into silence. Peter remained, a reassuringly steady presence at her side.
“We should head back,” he finally said. Rising, he offered her a supportive hand. “Visiting hours start again soon.”
“Hmm. We can tell Suzy all about our outing.” She took a last look at the boats before turning away. “Do you think she’ll ever wake up?”
“We can only hope, my dear.” Peter squeezed her hand as they walked back towards the hospital. “Suzy would say that, eventually, every tide has to turn.”
Word Count: 175
To read the other entries, or to submit your own, click the little blue frog:
This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by me. It was taken in St Ives, a seaside town in Cornwall that I visited last year. If you’d like to know more about St Ives, my mum, Millie Thom, wrote a post about the place that you can find here.
long fur tangles
beneath fingertips as a
warm weight sprawls
your legs whilst a deep
purr reverberates and
stare deep into your soul
binding you tight
Technically, he’s my sister’s cat, but as my sister and I now live together, I suppose he’s my cat now, too. He definitely likes to spend his time on my lap whenever possible. The photo of him was taken a few days ago, out in our new garden. I was trying to take photographs around the place, and he was determined to get my attention. He even climbed onto my back and sat with his paws on my head when I crouched down to photograph some flowers!
The poem I actually wrote quite a while ago, back when I was staying through at my sister’s old place. It’s one of what I refer to as my ‘text messages to myself’ – if I’m without a notepad and need to get some words out of my head, I tap them into a text message that I then send to myself. I didn’t realise just how many odd little things I had on there! Anyway, I thought this one would be a perfect accompaniment to the picture.
I hope you like it.
He had to wait for winter to arrive. Or so they told him. The summer, they said, belonged to others. He had to wait for the air to turn chilly and the wind biting; for the frost to form on the trees. Only then would it be his time.
But the summer seemed without end.
He willed the leaves to begin their change – the shift to golden browns would herald the approach of colder days. But disappointment dogged him. No matter how he hoped and wished and prayed, how he yearned for the seasons to shift, the green of summer remained dominant.
All the while, children laughed and played in bright sunshine, while he looked on.
He had to wait for the days when children wore warm coats to play outside, bundled up in hats, scarves and gloves. And when maybe, just maybe, the snow would fall and they’d build snowmen in the park.
First, though, the long summer had to end.
Charlie scowled. It wasn’t fair.
He wanted it to be his birthday now!
Word count: 175
To read the other entries or to submit your own, click the little blue frog.
This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by Ioniangraphics. Thank you for the prompt!
I hadn’t intended to post anything this week – mainly because I haven’t managed to respond to any of the comments on my last post yet (sorry) – but the words came into my head last night and wouldn’t leave me alone until I’d written them down. It seemed a shame not to share it.
I hope you like it. And I’ll try to respond to some comments and visit a few blogs this evening!
Greeting the Four
The seats had been placed with utmost precision: north, south, east and west, each one carefully aligned. Veraen nodded in satisfaction.
“Anything else, Sir?” his assistant – Jaeden? Jened? – said, and he gestured in dismissal, shooing the man out of the sacred space. He’d spent too long in preparation to let the bumbling fool ruin things for him.
He alone would greet the Four.
Veraen recited the invocation with practiced ease, excitement growing as power gathered. Figures began to coalesce, unbounded energy taking humanoid form. He fell to his knees as four sets of eyes turned upon him. Four voices spoke in unison.
“How dare you?”
What? No! That wasn’t right! He tried to speak, but no words emerged. He tried to move, but his limbs were weighted, immovable.
“Greetings, Great Ones,” his assistant – Joren, he now recalled – said. “May I approach?”
As Joren strode past he dropped a page before Veraen’s frozen form. Instructions to avoid insulting the Four filled the sheet. The torn edge and Joren’s smirk told him exactly why he’d never seen the page before…
Word count: 175
To read the other entries or to submit your own, click the little blue frog.
This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by Yarnspinner. Thank you, Yarnspinner!
It seems like forever since I last wrote a piece of flash fiction – though its actually only a little over a month. That month, however, has been insanely busy. I’m now living in a house in Lincoln (UK) with my sister and my teenage nephew, rather than in the village with my parents. Luckily, for a countryside loving girl like me, we’re right on the edge of a green stretch, with fields and woods only a few minutes walk away, so it doesn’t really feel like I’m in the middle if a city. I’ll try to share some pictures soon!
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story. Hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed – it was originally over 300 words long, so a lot had to be cut out of it! I’d love to know what you think.
RECIPES FROM THE HEART AND SOUL
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