Colours of March

Only just in time to post my colours for March. These were all taken at the beginning of the month when I was on holiday in Suffolk. The weather was cold and windy but mostly dry and this shot was taken on one of the lovely sunny days.

These reeds looked lovely with the sun shining through them and lighting the tops. Best viewed full size.

This lonely bulrush is really pretty outlined against the water. It was a grey day which is a pity because it would have looked wonderful with the sun on it and against blue water.

The Path

The path through the wood is hushed and soft.

Footsteps of man and beast

lie cushioned by ancient pine.

Centuries of fragrant needles.

The spirit of the path breathes a cool, damp sigh

turning leaves softly over;

whispering through high branches.

Gently shifting the mist.

The way of the path is blurred and smudged

with prints of hooves and paws.

Small paths leave it to explore

while it wanders gently on.

Travellers on the path step quietly. Heads lift

and eyes pierce through the trees.

Nostrils scenting, ears pricked.

They hear the path's song.

The song of the path is ancient and low.

Remembrance of bonds and affinities

forged in ancient days

reach out to touch it.

The colours of the path are earth and tree

snow and leaf. Sky and sunset

seen through bare branches

create stained glass windows.

The seasons of the path turn round and round

one upon the other.

Waking, nourishing, sleeping again

on the wheel of rolling time.

Good dog!

Well, no. He's not my dog. He's a good dog waiting patiently outside a very nice deli while his owner was inside.

That's my husband you can just see inside the shop buying himself a meat pie! Did he make it out of the shop and past the dog with the pie intact? Well of course he did because the little black dog is a very good little black dog. Unlike my large grey dog, Misty, who this morning took off after a muntjac deer on the common near the cottage we're staying at in Suffolk. Half an hour of calling later she came back panting like a steam train but luckily not with a deer hanging out of her mouth.

And that was just today! Yesterday she went after a huge herd of red deer the other side of the common. They were standing at the edge of some reed beds at the bottom of a slope. Misty doesn't know what reed beds are - they just looked like a field of reeds to her. Until she rushed in after the deer, that is. Now she knows what's underneath the reeds - very wet, very black mud!

Misty's a bad dog!

February colours

Here are my 'Colors of the Month'. This challenge can be found at Life Looms Large . This picture was taken near where I work. It was a cold, slightly frosty morning with the mist still visible in the valley. The best sort of February day.

This was taken on one of my dog walks. The rusty old farm trailer which is gradually becoming overgrown and forgotten in the corner of a field appealed to me as quite a good composition.

This is a typical February scene, devoid of colour and just waiting for something to start growing. February seems to be one of those miserable months when it just rains and rains, on and on. But just when I was beginning to despair of any colour in my life...


...it arrives! The camellia is always the first thing to bloom - usually about the same time as the snowdrops. By now it's usually in flower but the unusually cold recent weeks seem to have stopped it short at the bud stage. I hope it'll be OK when it warms up a bit. It's in a corner of the house outside my kitchen window and it's always a joy to look out and see its cheerful pinkness when all around it is dull and brown.

Misty, my Irish Wolfhound

This is Misty, my beloved Irish Wolfhound. She's just over 7 years old and still acts like a kid at times although you wouldn't think so from this picture. She is a true gentle giant with the most beautiful, kind nature and she puts up with me regardless of what sort of mood I'm in.

Very little fazes her although she regards squirrels as having been put on this earth solely in order to goad her, which means she spends a lot of time at the bottom of trees looking up into the branches.

This is Misty's haiku:

Low sun stroking fur
Shades of grey and gold mingle
Deep and peaceful breaths

Colours of January

These are the colours of January around my local lake. Silvers, greys, whites and the palest of pale blues. It's unusual for us to have such a hard and prolonged snowy period here so it was imperative that I got out there with my camera to record it.


Another view - this time of part of the lake that hadn't yet frozen, seen through a stand of delicate winter stems wearing their snowy gloves.

I posted these after visiting Life Looms Large and My Life is Just a Tapestry both of whom are also posting their colours of the month. If you want to do the same, go to Life Looms Large and join in! I intend posting photos of 'my' lake through all the months of the year because it's the place where the changing seasons impress me most as I walk round it at least once a day with Misty the Irish Wolfhound. I love to stop and note what's new - who's had ducklings, where the heron's fishing today or whether the old swan has found himself a new mate (I do hope he does or I'll miss the annual arrival of those beautiful cygnets).

COLOUR

"The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love colour the most" John Ruskin (1819-1900)


Why am I blogging about colour? Because it's all around us right now during the most colourful season of all. The trees, although they're losing their leaves fast with the rain and wind in recent days, have been glorious. From green, through lime, yellow, gold, orange and red to brown. From south-west right round to north-east on the colour wheel. A designer's rainbow.

And it's not just the leaves. The sky just a minute ago, straight after a rain storm, was a washed out palette of blues and pinks so delicate you could almost smell them. Now there's a thought; does colour have a smell?

Close your eyes and think about this. What comes to mind when you think of a colour? Does red smell of earth, does yellow smell of hot skin, warmed by the sun? Does blue smell of ozone and green of grass?

It's interesting to mix up the senses when thinking of descriptions. Such as sharp grey, allegro lemon, loud edges, a sour building, cool birdsong. Gives a whole new perspective on things doesn't it?