View allAll Photos Tagged Metaphors
A metaphor, 2017 as the bud of a flower! 2016 GONE, only memories and good images left now, LOL.
Full of PROMISE of all things good, we hope for.
Petal after petal, layer after layer, day after day, week after week, it opens... with ups and downs, sunshine and rain, warm and cold, the laughter and the tears!
Get through the 'lesser' days and enjoy the 'better' days, it is like fighting through the storms and then basking in the warm sunshine.
I hope 2017 brings a LOT of SUN for you, many beautiful ‘flowers’ and above all PEACE.
Looking forward to another year filled with the beauty to all the senses that flowers provide.
Our best wishes.
Have a good day and thanks for your visit, so very much appreciated, Magda, (*_*)
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"Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming."
-Roberto Bolaño
Magik Troll's March Challenge ~ Macro/close-up photography ~
Created for Sliders Sunday
best in the lightbox ;-)
HSS!
♥
This was yet another case where one minute I'm running an errand, the next finds me deep in some old cemetery. It's all quite spontaneous. Typically I'm driving along when something such as this pops into view and I simply pull over. I love the spontaneity of these moments. In an instant, all of my mundane concerns are temporarily put on hold as I begin exploring the {whatever}. I've visited this cemetery many times, but I never seem to view it in quite the same light. Either the place looks different, or my reaction is different (or both). It felt sort of closed in on this autumn day. I was struck by the rather orderly spread of fallen leaves. It was almost as if someone had spilled a box of cereal or tossed a deck of cards, figuratively speaking. It was just a precursor of the more disorderly look of a typical autumn that would soon follow. But in this instant, I was able to photograph this very delicate and confined moment of disorder marking the change of season. The many leaves hanging on seriously overhead completed the visual effect. All of this because I heeded instinct to pull over and get out of the car. That's always a difficult bit of inertia to overcome. But I'm always glad when I do. Soon enough I was on my way, and it was if the whole episode had occurred whole within my imagination. Except for these photos...
In the midst of a falling down house, a rocking chair sits. Might be some kind of metaphor for troubled times in our lives.
The approach of a thunderstorm reminds me in a way of the ball drop sequence that plays out on New Year's eve. There's such anticipation for the ball to drop and the clock to strike midnight. However when the moment is realized, the energy largely dissipates into thin air. There's no excitement for 12:01 am. It was all about reaching that point, the stoke of midnight. From a visual perspective, the intensity of the storm peaks in the seconds before it actually hits. I've witnessed this time and again, and the energy and pure adrenaline never seem to leave me. The purest form of storm atmosphere occurs in places like this...outdoors and out in the open. Better to witness the cloud structure from places with a wide vantage point. I arrived here last evening just ahead of a storm with which I had been driving on a parallel course. Pure luck put me here in the minutes before driving rain. I parked the car and ran out to the edge of this meadow. Menacing clouds rolled in from the west, quickly eclipsing the clear sky off to the east. Always an amazing sight to witness this squeeze play. Outflow winds raced out ahead of the rain, creating an eerie chilling effect on a day that had reached well into the 90s. I could feel alternate gusts of cold and warm wind, depending on the wind direction. The same winds created a frenzy of motion before me as the tall grasses and trees swayed. The clouds were spitting with lightning bolts and crackling with thunder. In the distance I began to hear the approaching rain. It arises as a soft hissing sound that gets louder as it draws near. All at once the rain arrives, and the proverbial New Year's eve ball has dropped. The brooding clouds morph into featureless gray cotton. The clarity of vision is occluded by raindrops. The storm will rage on for another twenty minutes. But photographically the show is over. I make my way back to my car. Soaking wet but still filled with the adrenaline of being here.
Metaphor.
HSS!
(Flickr still won't load comments for me . . . my photos or yours. I appreciate the comments while this gets sorted out.)
Thanks for Viewing.
In Algonquin Provincial Park there are often weird people walking the trails with cameras ready and eyes peeled (what a strange metaphor) for beautiful light, landscapes, and wildlife to be photographed. I'm one, (and I know some others, lol). I didn't see this lovely mama first, but I did take the opportunity to photograph her and her well camouflaged chicks.
This photo is © Richard Cawood
www.RichardCawood.com & www.2ndLightPhotography.com
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