see reality mirrored in reflections on the water
a semblance of the otherworld glimpsed through the lake’s portal
with a change of perspective truth is revealed
I took a walk around Hartsholme Lake yesterday. The reflections on the water were lovely.
metal pealing against cobblestones
in a chiming of bells
as dreamlike figures ghost by
a cavalcade of spirits
messengers from the past
bearing warning from a time of
division and strife
for those who care to listen
This week’s photo was taken at an English Civil War reenactment in my home town of Newark-on-Trent a year or so ago. The figures on horseback were the messengers from the parliamentary forces who carried the terms of surrender for the royalist town. If you’d like to see more pictures from the event, you can check out my post about it here. If you’d like to learn more about the history behind the event, check out my mum, Millie Thom’s, post on it here.
Newly shorn, the meadow lies bare now under the October sun, the golden trim giving accent to the surround of autumnal trees. The air holds a bitter nip that the early light is hesitant to dispel, but the clear sky promises pleasant hours ahead – a welcome change from the wet, windy and overcast days that have characterized the month so far. The benches beckon you to sit, but the chill encourages you to continue your exploration.
Beyond the meadow, the woodland beckons.
Within the shelter of the trees, the light is filtered through a filigree of golden brown leaves, whilst the air is heavy with the scents of damp earth and decomposing vegetation – an aroma unique to the season. Birds sing from their concealment above. Underfoot, fallen leaves squelch, a moist mess after the recent rainfall.
Your senses absorb each fleeting stimulus, recharging your energy as you bathe in nature’s beauty. The sun rises higher in the sky. You know that you are now ready to face whatever the day might bring…
This post is for Cardinal Guzman’s Changing Seasons Monthly Photo Challenge. All of the pictures were taken on a single morning at the meadow. The weather during the rest of the month, unfortunately, didn’t inspire me to go out photographing. Or to leave the house at all, really…
I hope you like them.
descend into the earth
and find shelter within tangled mycelium
warmed by a blanket of fallen leaves and dirt
whilst earthworms coil amidst encapsulated
dreams of sunlight’s return
sleep in peaceful slumber
untouched by the Crone’s icy tears
by the crystalline frosts and bitter snowfalls
as she mourns her fallen consort and
awaits the turning wheel