View allAll Photos Tagged Unasked
in deeds more than in words — coming unasked in times of adversity. A true friend never forsakes us, not even when we forsake ourselves. True friendship abides, in sunshine and in storm. When the whole world has gone out, this loving Friend will love you still :-)
J. L. Harbour, "When the World Has Gone Out," in The Golden Rule, 1897
iris, our yard, cary, north carolina
Someone once said “You can leave Hong Kong, but it will never leave you.”
And it’s true, still one of my favourite cities which is sadly going through unasked for changes now....
I hope I can go back one day.
► Listen if you care to find out and find the fascinating virtual version here:
Some Sylvia Plath: Poppies in October
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly –
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
Oh my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frosts, in a dawn of cornflowers.
My position as an unofficial, untrained, unasked for Special Assistant MIB agent emboldened me to expand my search area into the deserts of the South West where I came across this irritable fellow. His home planet must have been very warm because he stands out here in triple digit heat and only dreams of rain.
I have to cut this short as I have lot's of paper work to fill out and send in, I never get any replies, but I know they value my efforts.....
Adirondack Mountains, NY
It was unasked for and unexpected. An overcast day with rain in the forecast but a window of clearing for night photography found me lakeside, waiting to see what would develop. Towards sunset, things began to break apart, the ceiling split by a shock of nuclear bright sunlight, a last effort where the gray couldn’t quite cover it all. On cue, the center slid into a horizonal notch, leaving a great wake of cloud fanning behind its course towards tomorrow. Perhaps in sinking, it was throwing radiance from its decks to stay afloat; but of course it steamed on, the world turned, the sky grew brighter and at first the clouds darker. Until the engine’s light began refracting out there, already longitudes away, a pyrotechnic feast on the errant flotsam as the sky tried to pull itself back together. I stayed for a long while, watching the air above the mountains turn a red so deep that I questioned if it was really there. Ultimately, the sky closed back over and there was no more shooting that night, but I tossed in the waters of the day’s end, which would come for me as another performance occurred on a coast four time zones away. I could wish for every evening to be like this, always a remarkable display. But I never ask, and prediction is a futile endeavor. I simply count my blessings when I’m there in sunset’s wake.
There are Saints, calm and great, who bring good to others, quietly and unasked as does the spring. They have already crossed the dreadful ocean of life themselves and help others to cross it, spontaneously and without any motive.
Shankaracharya - Vivekachudamani, 39
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Lilac
The story of lilac, according to Greek mythology, begins with a beautiful nymph named Syringa (lilac’s botanical name).
Captivated by her beauty, Pan, the god of the forests and fields, chased Syringa through the forest.
Frightened by Pan’s affections, Syringa escaped him by turning herself into an aromatic bush – the flower we now refer to as lilac.
SYRINX..... was a Naiad Nymph of the River Ladon in Arkadia (southern Greece).
She was pursued by the amorous god Pan and to avoid his embrace was transformed into a reed plant (syrinx).
From her plant the god plant crafted his famous pan-pipes.
Once there lived on the cold mountainsides of Arcadia a Naias, who among the Hamadryades Nonacrinae (of lofty Nonacris) was the most renowned.
Syrinx the Nymphae called her. Many a time she foiled the chasing Satyri and those gods who haunt the shady copses and the coverts of the lush countryside.
In her pursuits - and in her chastity - Syrinx revered Ortygia [Artemis]; girt like her she well might seem, so easy to mistake, Diana’s [Artemis’] self, were not her bow of horn,
Latonia’s [Artemis’] gold. Indeed she was mistaken. Pan returning from Mount Lycaeus, crowned with his wreath of pine, saw Syrinx once and said - but what he said remained to tell, and how the scornful Nympha fled through the wilderness and came at last to Ladon’s peaceful sandy stream, and there, her flight barred by the river, begged her Sorores Liquidae (Watery Sisters) to change her;
and, when Pan thought he had captured her, he held instead only the tall marsh reeds, and, while he sighed, the soft wind stirring in the reeds sent forth a thin and plaintive sound; and he, entranced by this new music and its witching tones, cried
`You and I shall stay in unison!’ And waxed together reeds of different lengths and made the pipes that keep his darling’s name - Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.689
Pan cried out: ‘... I alone, Kythereia [Aphrodite], must suffer.
Alas for love!
Syrinx [transformed into a reed] escaped from Pan’s marriage and left him without a bride, and now she [the pipes made from the plant]
cries Euoi to the newly-made marriage of Dionysos with melodies unasked; while Syrinx gives voice, and to crown all, Ekho chimes in with her familiar note. - Nonnus, Dionysiaca 16.332
You know how Syrinx disregarded fiery Kythera [Aphrodite], and what price she paid for her too-great pride and love for virginity
how she turned into a plant with reedy growth substituted for her own, when she had fled from Pan’s love, and how she still sings Pan’s desire! - Nonnus, Dionysiaca 42.363
I personally enjoyed the modern woman’s interpretation by Kate Aspen
But I’m funny that way….
This is it….. blog.kateaspen.com/?cat=289
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Entrevaux, Provence, France, yet another photogenic place that very few have ever heard of. To answer an unasked question, no, I did not walk to the top of the fortress.
I love this tunnel. I especially love what Camille Walala has created. But, even more, I love when moments like this happen; this was unplanned, unasked for and totally spontaneous. These guys liked that I was visibly pleased with their magnificent addition as they thought I might be annoyed they'd messed up my shot. I love these moments and connections with strangers that photography can bring. This is why this is my best shot for 2021
Be aware of virtuous people and people who help unasked.
A lot of trouble is caused by them.
The only virtuous suppose to be, to not have any virtuous. In the name of so called virtuous Billions of people got killed.
To help someone unasked, prevents mostly the one in need from important experiences.
Be good. Do not call yourself good.
Be generous, do not call yourself as such.
Love. Do not talk about it.
Live. Do not think how life is suppose to be.
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Not a posed portrait (but he did, unasked, take his cap off for me in between clicks): this friendly Cuban just let me shoot him right where he was in the cafe / bar where he was sat drinking with his friend. As it was quite busy in there, it was literally just a couple of clicks without any setup in natural light as I didn't want to be a nuisance to the bar owner or customers. There's some times I wish I was less British and more of a nuisance, and this was one of them as what a great face...
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
Today, several Minneapolis high schools left around noon and marched to Minneapolis City Hall, in solidarity with the victims and survivors of the Florida school shooting.
I was heartened at the turnout and the number of students who volunteered to go to the state capitol on March 24th and speak to their elected officials. As might be expected, the students showed more passion and concern than any state legislator I've seen, heard or met. I will be there on March 24th when all these young people will move the legislators out of their perennial lassitude.
I was about to leave, when saw this little young woman with a sign bigger than her. And the question on it, that should weigh on everyone of us.
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
©2017 RESilU | Please don't use this image without my explicit permission.
________________________________________________
Unasked, we are born,
Unasked, we have to go.
Do not ask: why?
Ungefragt werden wir geboren.
Ungefragt müssen wir gehn.
Nicht fragen: Warum?
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
We stopped here in July - a numbered Kansas dirt road. It's something I've done hundrds of times, but this time was different. We were stopped by a local gentleman who rolled down his window to ask us why we were here.
The "we" in this case was my car, a van and an old pickup truck. This odd assortment understandably raises questions.
And so it wasn't the questioning itself that was really different. I've been stopped on public roads and asked who I was here to see and if I knew anybody in the area.
Those questions come from bordom and curiosity - they're questions we're wondered ourselves when we see an unknown car in our neighborhood.
It wasn't the questions themselves, but how they were asked. There was fear. Like the unasked question was "are you Antifa?"
This happened several times. In a few there was absolutely political ranting (more to the sky than to or about us). But this fear soaked the entire trip.
Usually, the big question when I'm out is whether or not I'm a poacher. I'm not. But this year, the year of one of the most divisive elections in our history.
But we weren't there to riot or convert them. We were there to enjoy their community, their state.
We did meet a bunch of really nice people, of course, which made the intense fear stand out even more.
If anything, it shows that we have much more in common than we often think we do. We just need a bit more empathy, reason and critical thought.
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'Cut Loose the Ropes'
Camera: Ansco Color Clipper
Film: Kodak Ektachrome Lumiere; x-07/1995
Process: DIY ECN-2
Kansas
July 2020
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
Along the way
A gathering of forces
Colors and shapes
Made their presence
In a image makers eye
Unasked but welcomed
Just the same
The Tree is a Tree. I take the one picture and then reflect the picture around the self same picture. The Tree if I wish to see within it a reflection then it can be either a mirror, or a projection screen. The boughs can hold my thoughts, there they can bloom and blossom illuminated and lettered by my Wisdom and Understanding.
These pictures are taken from,
Stop, look, listen and think reflective rumination til inspiration delivers intuition into composition
www.flickr.com/photos/phhsykes/albums/72177720313209556
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
The Midnight Hunters
Description
A thought-provoking tale about night-time hunters and their midnight prey.
"And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him." And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.”
Revelations 6
Acte 1: A Pub Acquaintance
“ Well ‘Allo, there yourself. What’s that mate? This seat next to me, taken? Why no, nat at all and Monk would consider it a pleasure to have a bit of company.”
“Monk? Why that’s me-self mate, isn’t it now? Robert A. Delaney, grey-eyed native of Sherriff Street at your service, but everyone calls me Monk due to my being left on the doorstep of an Abbey as a babe. Guess me, mum, whoever she was, dint want to raise a wild Irishman like me, wink...”
“Anyways, It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance my friend, though there’s some who would not see it as being a pleasure to meet me, ‘atoll.”
“Oui Mate is that a worry crossing your eye, no need, only Monk here having his bit of a joke on meself. Sit yourself on down.“
“Aye, to answer your obviously unasked question about my accent. I’m Irish, born and raised by the docks of Dublin.”
“Why I’m a here in Scotland? Well, that’s my Lass Tabitha’s doing. But I’m happy to be here all the same, and I think we should drink to it...”
“Ta, barkeep, that’s a good Lad, fetch a couple of fresh pints for my new friend and I here...”
“What’s that mate. I’s Tabitha with me? No, please keep your seat, she had business of her own to attend this evening. And I’m not always welcomed in her circles. Ha, only kidding again. Nudge“
“Well, here are the brews. Cheers, let’s drink to health, to wisdom, and the wealth of glitterin beauty in this area.“
“Well thank you, yes that was rather a nice toast, and well met by you...Excuse me, lad, someone is buzzing me...”
“Well saints preserve, look it here, speaking of the devil, it’s my own Tabitha herself calling out to my cell to let me know she is arrived to her party. Wonderful things these toys are, I can keep track of right where my Tabitha is perched, or where her cell is going. Wonderful devices this is, cell phones. Can come in handy in so many ways and means, don ha agree!”
“Well my friend, it’s been nice sharing a drink with you, but duty calls...have to meet up with some chums of mine. Here, let me pay for this round and your next. No, No, it’s my pleasure. Let’s just toast one last time together. Here’s to the success of all our endeavors this evening.”
“What’s that mate? Endeavors? Well yes, Tabitha and I have an endeavor this evening but it’s best-kept mum so as not to queer the pitch, If youn’s knows what I’m a meaning. Could you hand me, my bowler mate? Thank you . Well cheerio then and as they say in my neck of our woods, may the road be risen up to meet you , and all that it entails...”
“It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding; and to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving.”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
I think my aunt Julia lived by this...
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
The question: where is this?
The unasked question: when was this?
The real question: why is this?
The answer to the last: it's another dreary day. Or rather, the morning was spectacular as I drank my coffee, to be followed with clouds and dankness. So again I retreat to my archives, remembering places past and luxuriating in their memories...
vita brevis.
in a rotten nutshell, i grew up amid the barrenness and confusion
that lie in wait for anything that mistakes itself. among stoolies and spies,
i risked my neck on the empty parade ground, kept shtum in the silent masses,
a clown with seven tongues, a choirboy with an ear for cynical jokes.
unasked, i spoke as others might spit, out of the side of my mouth,
and masked my own shocking helplessness with black humour.
history was no use to me, all it showed was human failings anyway.
where i grew up, greatness was something you read about in saints’ lives.
imbibed with my reading was hypocrisy. in a few infantile etudes,
i played Doubting Thomas to the devout, Peter the Rock to heretics.
i saw the zero beribboned, and the colossus ground down by dwarves.
the born deserter: sooner die than take aim at the heart.
i puked out of tanks, cried myself to sleep in barracks.
shaved my skewed grin over a bucket, under canvas.
i did in my knee at football, but my soul fared much worse.
how often i would come home with the lie on my lips: ‘all right. nothing much.’
i stacked files to feed the shredder, applied green paint to trees,
fantasized about everything under the sun, and a few things that aren’t.
utopia, for instance... ever since Thomas More, those isles have been bleak.
in the concrete wastes, i embraced my first scrawny body.
for want of lilies, i sniffed the garbage on the breeze, guzzled the aromas
of canteen and abattoir, and the stench of overcrowded trains.
a palace in grey concrete was my Ecole des Beaux Arts,
where the classrooms chorussed: muse, excuse me if i lie...
i had all the time in the world for reflection, but there was nothing
to shake a stick at. the new bibles weren’t worth the paper
they were printed on, and the only lesson for living was: do without.
a prison reglement. it was all a long time ago, and lo, i’m still here.
where states melted away like sand castles, and illusion was at a premium,
it was second nature to me to turn the music up, and softly hum
the two or three lines that were sufficient to put the country
under water. as i embarked on my sentimental journey
through nettle fields and villages, the other way to the exodus,
the sergeant’s russian bawl: ‘dawai, dawai!’ was still ringing in my ear.
nostalgia’s falsetto recommended something exotic before you hand in
your dinner pail. what say the hawaiian beaches?
-durs grunbein
An attendance of ZERO for my tutorial this afternoon. This was the email I sent them afterwards :-)
Dear all,
I wanted to extend my heartfelt thanks for your remarkable presence at my session this afternoon. It was inspiring to see how each of you, in your own unique way, filled the room with an air of focused absence. The silence was palpable, and I must commend you on the profound skill it takes to contribute so much, by doing so little.
The echoes of the empty room provided a perfect backdrop for me to reflect deeply on your academic development and aspirations. I had the pleasure of addressing every query you didn't have, discussing each career aspiration that wasn’t mentioned, providing useful tips on success to the sound of a tree falling in a forest 1000 miles away, and offering detailed feedback into the void. It's not every day you get to have such a one-sided conversation - it was a joy!
Please rest assured that all the unasked questions were met with equally unheard answers, and your non-attendance has been noted with a flair of invisibility that only true academic dedication could achieve. It's heartening to know that you are all so committed to maintaining the mystery around your academic progress.
I eagerly anticipate the possibility of perhaps seeing you, in the flesh, at our next scheduled meeting. Until then, continue to thrive in your scholarly pursuits, and remember, I am here to engage with you, whenever you might decide to appear. 😉
All the best
Rob
Just the day before I made this photo I had a very funny encounter at this place in my photo. I was on my way home after I reached the summit of the mountain in the morning! I took the descent over the harmless southern flank to get down. At the height of about 1’800 meters I made a short break and gave something to eat to my dog Giorgio and looked around to enjoy the area. It was a rare beautiful day and the sun showed its best side all the time. What a great feeling to be up there. Fresh air and no one who will tell you what one has to do and no one who babbles all the time.
Well, this feeling was only for a short time! An elderly was coming down the same way like me and reached my position. He greeted me very friendly and began a conversation with me. Did I say conversation? No, it was a monologue ;-) But he was very kind and my dog Giorgio liked him, for he began to lick his hand he he he :-) And in order to avoid to become bored, the old man unasked began to explain all surrounding mountains. And he ignored completely my timid objections that I also had a certain knowledge of the area. And he talked and talked … I could not find the “Mute”-button to stop this agony. Giorgio turned his head … I think he was crying or he wanted to tell me “Do something!!!” ;-))
At some point in his conversation he suddenly asked me how I came down the mountain! “I took the harmless southern flank to get down, Sir!” was my response. He ignored my response and insisted that the southern flank would be very difficult and would be only appropriate for experienced climbers like him. “What? Difficult? The southern flank? It’s only a walk got get up Sir!” was my opinion. And believe me dear friends, it’s really just a walk. At no time I had to climb! But the old man just looked funny at me. So I repeated my answer friendly. He shook his head regretfully and said “The southern flank? No, no, my little child, this is nothing for you! The southern flank is only for adults!”
I was almost shocked and looked alternately to the man and then to Giorgio! What should I say to the poor old man? I decided to accompany the old man down to the valley. On the way down he told us again all the names of all mountains of the area. But today after a certain time I must confess, it was very funny :-)
I want to thank all very much for your "views", "Comments" and "Favourites" :-) The only thing that matters is that you have joy in this photo. Again, thank you :-)
Everything that you need is in you and everything that you want is waiting for you. You might need many things and I hope that you find what you want and need and that there is a balance between those two drives for you. When I have what I need then I want photographic subjects. Having been lured to Loch Ness I was out of my worlds in joy within the beauty all around me that transformed the struggles within me. Yes we are in a burial ground, but it is full of centuries of history and mystery left evident in the style and content of this wonderful place. A tree at the edge of the burial ground looks fantastic in the beautiful Highland light. I wonder if this Rowan Tree was either left for a Rowan, or for an Ashley with it also being referred to as a Mountain Ash Tree? Maybe someone still knows the how and the why this tree came to be in such a well tended space? The stones lasting over the centuries still record the past and show the tides of fortune rising and falling. Some questions asked and unasked have answers unneeded even if we want to know, sometimes it is best to have what you need in you and to progress where you can fittingly find what you truly want.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Link with more information.
The Boleskine Burial Ground
Some days
New light comes
Unasked out of the blue
Doors open once closed
With a new way of seeing ................
A Deep and sincere thank you to our Friend Emma for playing along
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Masquerade Ball
2 parts
Part 2
“Nancy’s” view Continues
A voice quietly said from behind my back.
“ Hello, Samantha, fancy meeting you here.”
“Raffles!” I blurted with relief, as his hands pull away. I felt his fingers caressing alongside my face, then along through my hair.
He stepped back, and I quickly turned around. With a deep sigh of relief, it was really him, my Raffles.
“Not playing a game alone, are ye Lass?” He asked me, blue eyes twinkling.
“No,” I said shaking my hair.
He smiled, pulling his hands from his pockets,
I then lectured…” you gave me quite the start sir. “ then I giggled, unable to control my emotions and pleasure of his appearance here in this deserted garden.
He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it so I was looking up into his eyes.
“Stand still,” he commanded and moved around behind me.
“Good thing I didn’t do what first popped into my devious mind..”
I felt his knuckle go into my back…
”Playing your games. Now Stick ‘ em up miss .”
“Good thing you didn’t I would have peed myself... I giggled.
“Raffles” chuckled:
“Stay in character miss .”
We’re the words I heard from behind me
I raised up my hands, imagining like I was actually being held up. My heart began to race again with a feeling of delicious danger as I spoke.
“What do you want from me?”
Raffles, still holding his knuckle into my back …reached out his other hand with an open palm as he spoke.
”Put your hands down, I’ve taken a fancy to that bracelet of yours. So please hand it over. “
I shivered, saying smartly. “I don’t believe a real thief would say please …”
My friend “Raffles” responded.
“Would my real victim ask that? Try a different tack.”
Trembling again, with delicious delight. I played along.
“No sir, not my bracelet, anything but that …”
“That’s better, a bit of heartfelt pleading can never heart.
After a second the hand withdrew.
Raffles laughed amiably…
“Ok miss, keep your bracelet then. “
He chuckled from behind, removing his knuckle….
“It was only a thought I had when I saw you out here walking alone, remembering the story of the games you play with your brother, did I do ok?”.
“Smashing .” I giggled gleefully “Spot on.”
I put my hands down to my sides as Raffles placed a hand on my shoulder and ran it down my satin blouse’s sleeve while he came back around to face me.
“All kidding aside, you really shouldn’t be out here alone “Nancy” someone less inviting as me may have been about. And I don’t mean your brother. So let’s see you back safe Lass.”
I nodded.
He lifted my hand and pulled my back to him.
Coddling along against his warm figure, Raffles led me back along the path to the stairway.
“I’ll be leaving you here “Nancy” I was on my way home.
I looked up into his face. “it was fun meeting you, sorry you have to go. “
“So am I Lass.”
We embraced in a deep hug.
As we broke apart, He ran his fingers up my side, then lifted my hair.
He let my hair down, his fingers tingling as he touched along my ears and face as he spoke.
“A Very pretty one you are, and don’t ever let anyone say differently.”
I shivered with excitement over his praise as, with a clenched fist, he held my chin up, looking deep within my eyes. But he had such a sad look in his eyes.
I couldn’t help myself. I practically leaped up against him and tightly squeezed him in my arms.
We finally broke apart. He smiled. Looking like he had been relieved of some troubling thought.
“Go now, you before I change my mind about playing games.”
Letting me go with a chuckle, I turned and went up to the stairs, turning I blew him a kiss.
He was still watching, hands in his vest pocket, he pulled them out and caught it..acting like he was putting it inside his vest.
“My second this evening.” I heard him say mysteriously…
Then turning away, he went off down along the path.
I turned and went up the stairs, feeling lighter than I had all evening.
I was soon sneaking back onto the upstairs balcony.
With a start, I saw the backside of father off in a corner with some of his lads. Smoking a cigar.
I hightailed it out back through the entrance before slowing down to a walk.
As I made my way back I was still riding on air.
“What a delicious adventure I was having, one I was not expecting at all.”
I saw that my mum was back sitting at the table.
She did not notice me approaching, her eyes had a distant, far-off look, and she was smiling over something.
I gave a cheery hello as I went to my chair, though my heart was pounding.
Mum snapped out of her reverie and smiled at me. I could tell she was a bit tipsy from drinking wine all evening.
I also noticed with surprise that her neckline was striking bare. She had taken off her pretty necklace. Why? I wondered as mum spoke to me.
“Where did you go off to, babe?”
“To the loo, I unabashedly lied.” The words came out with surprisingly no hesitation.
“Having a good time?” she asked.
“Brilliant,” I said, telling no lies.
“I’m am having a lovely time also,” she answered an unasked question with a giggle.
She went on with a story I could see she was aching to tell someone.
“It all started when a rude man ran into me while your father was getting drinks. That wasn’t so nice, but then…”
And she looked off rather dreamily, which I thought was rather silly
“Honey, then I ran into the most darling young man. All dressed in black. He had seen that man bump into me with no apologizing, so he did so for him, then he asked me to dance. “ she said, blushing rather prettily.
“Told me he was dressed as an undertaker didn’t he, that he was there to collect souls. Then he told me the most marvelous stories about what young lads your age would bet on.”
“At a wedding?” I asked cautiously, not about to admit that I may have already met him.
“No, he talked about being at a cricket match and the older lads betting in on stealing a kiss from a girl.”
As she told me this mum was stroking the neckline of her gown, noticeably bare without her pretty necklace. . So WHY had she taken it off I pondered? It had looked so nice sparkling along there.
I started to ask about the necklace when an older lady began yelling out from a table across the room
“It’s missing! Has anyone here seen my daughter’s diamond bracelet? Cecilia is missing one of hers!” The older lady wailed.
I stare at mum, watching horrified by her reaction:
Mum’s hand shot to her neck, and I saw the startled look fill her eyes as she realized her sapphire diamond necklace was missing also.
“She had not been the one to remove her necklace!” I thought with a stark awareness
What sinister activity had been going on here this evening?
Remembering the garden game with Raffles I quickly lift my hand studying my wrist. My bracelet was still there. As well as all my rings.
I was starting to breath a sigh of relief when mum pulled back my hair, her eyes wide with shock
Honey, your earrings are gone. I reach up and feel nothing. My eyes also grow wide. What is going on?
By now the whole venue was in an uproar. Apparently, several other ladies were also checking, and some just then noticed the loss of their jewellery. Verbal gasps and mumbling could be heard amongst the tables.
Father, still out on the upper floor balcony at the time, heard the commotion.
Reacting instinctively, he had the rental security block the exits, nobody was to leave, then called in at his police station for reinforcements
He then showed up at our table to see how we were doing.
He was shocked and dismayed that we both had apparently fallen victims to the criminal shenanigans played out that evening.
He asked mum if she could think of anything out of the ordinary that had happened?
She mentioned being bumped by “that” man while waiting by the bar for my father to get his brandy. Neither could say if they remembered seeing mum wearing her necklace after that. Father admitting he had been more focused on meeting up with his cigar and brandy drinking lads that he was on “That prat!”
This made me want to believe that it had not been the handsome stranger we had both danced with as the culprit.
“And if he had not been the one to take mother’s necklace, then he was probably not responsible for taking the jewels I was missing. And I was not going to hurt my memories of his most welcome attention to me, be tarnished by accusing him without merit.” I told myself.
As mum and father were discussing this, my mind was flying. For I knew father, and mum would be asking me if I had had anything odd happen this evening.
For one thing, I was not about to admit sneaking off into the road gardens alone.
I myself in my heart strongly suspected “Raffles.” He had been too smooth and suave. But I did not have any real evidence. did not have any real evidence. And papa always said circumstantial evidence is no real proof.
No, I assured myself, at no time had I felt a prick on my wrist, and itch on my ears, a tug at my throat, nor a twitch anywhere else on my person that would have alerted me to the devious tricks an unknown someone had played upon my “dressed to kill” figure that evening.
So I, with all innocence, was able to play dumb at first when my father asked me how I thought my jewels had been lost.
Then, realizing that I was to be questioned like the rest when Father’s Detectives showed up.
Prompted by father, I gave it some real thought. Then it clicked. I remembered those two twit girls running into me while in the loo.
So I told my father that story, as well as his detectives later on. I ruefully admitted to not getting a clear enough look to be able to describe them.
And I got away with that story, though my father told me I should have waited and gone into the loo with mum.
I never mentioned the meeting with the mysterious handsome male calling himself “Raffles” to anyone.
The fact that Mum never said anything about her dance with him, helped me cement any concerns that he may have been the culprit. For I had definitely found a soft spot in my heart for the handsome stranger with the deep soothing voice and easy manner.
I have always associated my meeting with “Raffles” from a film line heard years later. later. One lady in satin was telling another lady in velvet that she had known a mutual acquaintance since childhood.
“And even back then, whenever he passed by us on the stairs, all the girls would place a hand on their hearts… And their jewels….”
I had also felt he was a kindred spirit for the way he asked about the games my brother and I played. He had seemed to enjoy hearing about them.
And actually, Father’s detectives never got a clear story from any of the(mostly intoxicated) victims that evening concerning pinpointing when they thought their jewels had been taken.
It was then decided that there must have been a small invading gang of male and female thieves who quickly worked the room, targeting our jewels. The real mystery was in their methods.
From what I heard the thief(s) made quite a nice haul, not in quantity, but quality. No one was ever caught.
Mum seemed more concerned that my earrings had fallen victim to thieves, more so than she was over the loss of her necklace.
She accepted the fact that she herself had been a victim. Reasoning that it was the risk a lady always takes when wearing out her good jewels.
So we were all shocked by what happened the next day.
I had gone right to bed that evening, actually early morning, for it was 2:00 am when I was undressing in my room. I had placed my purse upon my antique vanity.
The next morning I discovered the purse on the floor. Assuming that our Golden Retriever, Gypsy’s tail had knocked it over, I picked it up.
Looking inside I saw something flickering.
Emptying it on the bed I was shocked to see the earrings I thought had been lost!
Mum, father, and I all were baffled over what had happened?
It was a proper mystery.
The earrings and my green velvet purse had to be taken in for evidence. Though no clues were discovered.
Which was fine by me. especially since Father Christmas that year brought me my own grown-up set of rhinestone jewellery. And a new dangling sapphire and diamond necklace for mum, that far outshone the one stolen from her that unlucky evening.
Later on that month I went to the library to do a bit of Nancy Drew-like sleuthing.
I was shocked upon learning whom AJ Raffles had been:
A famous cricket player by day, a secret master jewel thief at night!
I decided to just let sleeping dogs lay.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
To read the story from Raffles Viewpoint
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Sometimes cornflower, seems to show up in gardens unasked for but is actually pretty enough not to be thought of as a weed.
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly -
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
Sylvia Plath
I was on the deck overlooking the Marina and was struck by the light on this scene. We were exercising, so I had to miss many shots, but I grabbed this with my iPhone when we got a water break:) Best seen in large format.
It is well to give when asked but it is better to give unasked, through understanding.
~ Kahlil Gibran (1883 - 1931), 'On Giving,' The Prophet, 1923
[Thats one of the greeting cards I made last week for Eid at work :]
With Honest Gratitude
Wells
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Masquerade Ball
2 parts
Part 1
“Nancy Drew’s” view
That early summer evening I was attending a posh masquerade ball with my parents. My twin brother was supposed to come but ended up spending the night keeping company to a neighbor girl he fancied, who was babysitting some young nieces of hers.
At the time I was a young lass of 15. I thought I knew everything at that stage in my life and was far too cheeky to be told differently.
For the affair, we all happily dressed up in our best. Or at least mum and I were happy, father maybe not so much.
Father had dressed in his tux with a green cummerbund. He wore a green eye mask.
He was also carrying a flask of brandy and a case of cigars.
Father, though now a police super, had started as a university student clerking for MI6. So he claimed his costume was the spy James Bond
, Which explains his toy pistol that was actually a lighter to use for his cigars, but not brandy or cigars themselves.
Since father was Bond, mum declared she was dressed as the secretary Miss Moneypenny.
That evening she wore her elegant eye-catching blue taffeta gown with a scooped neckline, ruffled half sleeves, and a fluttering skirt that lay knee-length in front, shin-length in back.
With it, she wore her best jewels. A matching sapphire and diamond jewelry set that sparkled deliciously under the ceiling lights of the great banquet hall. The matched set consisted of a long side hair clip, earrings, necklace, bracelet, cocktail ring, and a kite-shaped broach pinned to her waist. The necklace was especially pretty. A wide v shape, set with large pear-shaped sapphires interspersed with smaller round diamonds set in loose gold chains. She wore a deep blue mask that covered her eyes and nose. Mum joked that she was a secretary undercover.
I thought she looked more like a movie star on the BAFTA red carpet.
As for myself, I was wearing my shiny green party dress. It has a sheer satin blouse with long sleeves. And a shiny pleated swishy skirt that fell to the top of my black leather pumps with the fake emerald clasps. The mesh waistline was decorated with emerald and diamond rhinestones.
I was wearing my “good” jewels. My long gold and diamond heart-shaped pendant, wide rhinestone bracelet, and 4 of my favorite rhinestone rings with green gems.
I also was wearing the long old fashioned clasped rhinestone diamond earrings that mum had given to me on my birthday. She had bought them while at university from a second hand for a couple of pounds. Later she discovered that the 2 largest stones were real diamonds, the earrings being worth 10 times what she had paid. This was my first time wearing them out.
I felt quite pretty dressed up like I was. And ready for what I hoped would be an evening of adventure. Especially after my father said his ladies(Mum and I) were both “dressed to kill” that evening.
I also wore a black bandit-type mask I had gotten from my brother’s room. It came from a costume play box we both kept our role-playing game items in.
Not sure who I was masquerading as, but when Father suggested Nancy Drew, I went with it.
Overall, as a party, the masquerade ball was simply dazzling.
A dressy, mostly adult affair. By the way, everyone was dressed, I was reminded of the way actors and actresses attending an awards show looked. With the only real costumes being the fancy masks the guests were wearing.
We found a small side table and snatched it. No one else joined us.
Mum and dad ended up leaving me alone a lot as they mingled and then danced on the raised floor at one end of the hall.
Which was not fair for they also expected me to stay close.
It was packed that evening, so much so that there was not enough room on the raised floor, that reached up to my chin when standing. So some of the dancing couples were forced down to the lower floor directly below.
I had been to several school dances myself, and admit to desiring to be asked to dance this evening. But there were few there my age, no one I knew, and I was far too shy to make any approaches to make new acquaintances that night.
Feeling a bit nervous, I found myself playing a lot with my bracelet. Watching, mesmerized by the sparkling jewels set in it. I also pulled out my small compact and amused myself by watching my earrings sparkle while I made them sway.
At one point, a couple of hours in, I was sitting there alone at our side table, drinking slowly from a small goblet of wine my father had gotten me, with a bit of light-hearted scolding from mum for doing so.
Well, the wine has purseits effect, and a call to nature I felt overrides what my father said about staying put.
I picked up my small green velvet purse and headed off in search of relief.
I found the loo across the room, next to the long bar where drinks were being served.
It was crowded inside and I got jostled a bit as I stopped right in the way of a pair of young ladies. “ Rude twits,” I said under my breath, for they never even apologized barreling along as they were.
I finished and headed back out. I stopped by the bar to have a look around.
Those twit girls who had been rude to me were standing there, backs to me, blocking my pat as they were giggling over something
Looking for another way around, I saw off to my left an opening that led outside. I went over and found myself at the entrance to a large upper-floor balcony with about 12 tables strewn about. Only half the tables were full.
I went out and started to explore.
It was a warm evening with a beautiful full moon that made everything appear romantic and fairytale-like.
Looking over the side I saw hedges below, like the kind that would border a flower garden. I couldn’t see over them, but I detected the smell of roses coming from that direction.
As I circled around, several ladies were watching me, and I got nervous about being out here alone.
So I cut back to the entrance. I then noticed something I had missed. Just on the inside of the balconeys’ entranceway, was a small set of stairs leading down. A thin rope was across with a poster reading: Gardens are off Limits.
“A thin rope is not much of a deterrent.” I thought reading the sign.
Just then a man in a security guard's uniform passed.
He warned me sternly.
“No one allowed below, young miss.”
I nodded, red-faced, and headed to the entrance.
I went straight back to my table. My parents were not back, so I grumpily sat back down.
How it galled me to be treated as a child by that rental cop(as father calls them) when I was feeling so grownup this evening.
I was still fuming as a gentle hand unexpectedly took hold of my shoulder, startling me.
A voice said, “Hello Samantha.”
I turned and found myself looking up into the smiling eyes of a handsome young male. He was all in black. His opera phantom half mask, tux, vest, shirt, and bow tie. Not a bit of color, except for his twinkling blue eyes.
“I’m not Samantha, wrong girl,” I said apologetically, rather wishing I was Samantha with a handsome friend like this.
He said, “ No, you certainly are not my friend Samantha.”
He then looked me up and down…
“Far prettier, if I dare say.”
How do you do, held anyone up lately?” He added with a firm, soothingly deep voice that reminded me of Father’s.
I was too taken off guard to answer back right away. Obviously, he has mistaken me for someone closer to his own age. Mum had said I looked years older that evening, with my eyes made up and with my red hair swept back, held in place by a green velvet clip.
I gulped. The proper thing to do was make him aware of his mistake. But I was a bit off over feeling the odd man out and quickly decided to go with the moment.
I decided to stay in my character of Nancy Drew.
I raised my hand. “How do you do sir, my name is Nancy, and no, despite the mask, I'm not a thief.”
Taking my hand he kissed it with chivalrous gallantry. “Pleasure is all mine, glad my watch and wallet are safe”.” he chuckled merrily, looking at me with thoughtful eyes.
Then, still holding my hand, asked…” May I sit for a bit, rather tuckered out at the moment?”
I nodded my head feeling that this could well be the adventure I was hoping for.
It felt both secure and divine being treated as an adult. I then realized he was asking me a question.
“So Nancy, what then, does your character do for a living if she is not a thief?”
Without thought I answered, staying in character…“ I am an amateur detective.”
He answered in his soothingly deep voice “ Well that is quite interesting indeed, what kind of cases do you like working on?”
I didn't know how to answer that and squirmed as my face turned red, which I know really makes my freckles show up on my cheeks.
“ I bet you are really clever at catching thieves. And that is why you are here this evening? Or are you taking the night off?”
Taking the cue, I nodded my head. Hard enough that I felt the green clip loosen “No thieves here tonight.”
He laughed in a winning manner. “ I guess not, probably no reason for one to be here. So miss Nancy, you've not asked whom I am playing this evening.”
I had not, so I guessed..” let me see, an Undertaker ?” I said teasingly.
He chuckled..”Not even close. A.J. Raffles, cricketer, at your command my lady.”
I had no idea who A.J.Raffles was, and I could see that my face had been a dead giveaway to that.
He chuckled. “Never heard of him? Well, Raffles loved to play cricket, as well as several other hobbies. And there is a story behind that, as a lad, that helped him choose his course as an adult. Care to hear it?”
Nodding yes, I took a sip of wine as he began his tale.
“When A.J. Raffles was a lad of ten he attended a wedding where his parents were both best man and maid of honor. A.J sat at a table with an older Great Auntie who paid him no heed.
He soon fell in with a group of bored older boys who had been throwing dice in a makeshift crown and anchor board. The game had been broken up by one of the servers and they had all been chased away
AJ was huddled in with that group as they watched the dressed-up wedding guests up on the dance floor. They began talking amongst themselves, commenting over the scene before them.
“Look at dem jools the birds are wearing. Bet they'd be worth a lot.” One of the lads was saying. Another quipped back that too bad those dames weren't their age. “Yeah, like that would mean anything. What would you do, lift their jools?” Came the teasing retort. “Hell yeah I would.” said a cocky lad. And someone else said “I like to see you do it. “ AJ was taking all this in, squirming a bit because he had always had a secret desire to make a collection of the pretty jewellery he'd seen ladies wearing. Tonight was no different.
I smirked, “sounds like my brother.”
“There you go then, you know how he felt also “ my new friend answered smiling pleasantly before continuing...
Well as fate would have it, two young teenage girls came walking Purposefully past. They threw that group of boys a rather coy look while passing as close by as they could.
One was dressed in a slick satin high necked gown of deep red with a rhinestone necklace and earrings. Her companion was wearing a sky blue sleek satin party dress, smooth black jacket, and strands of imitation pearls.
No sooner had they passed than the inner circle of boys began to dare and double dare. Money was put up in bets that enticed two of the lads to take up the challenge. That being to come away free with the girl’s necklaces.
The two lads left, and as the others looked on, went up to the two young lassies and began to converse. The giggling girls finally allowed themselves to be led to the dance floor
As they began to dance, more bets were made amongst the remaining lads, with young AJ joining in. Spending his only farthing on blue satin losing her pearls, and doubling that it would be done without her noticing.
Both of the dancing boys made several amateur attempts upon their female partner’s jewels. Blue satin, misinterpreting why her partner had his hand high up on her backside, giggled and fled away. Red satin ran off after her friend, but not before the wily lad who had been holding her had given even her a hug, nicking her shimmering necklace off from around the high collar of her slick gown as she struggled free.
He came back triumphantly to collect his winnings. Though some argued that seeing her necklace had not been touching skin it was not a real contest. He got his winnings in the end and the group wandered off, the prized necklace being passed around with envy.
AJ stayed behind contemplating. He watched as the lads stopped by a table where a young girl sat alone. She was wearing a long bridesmaids' gown of silk dyed in several shades of teal and green. A single string of real pearls hung down from her bare neck. Expensively swinging down elegantly. He knew what the group of lads were discussing in their private huddle. AJ moved off not wishing to see anymore.
“Those poor girls, I am glad your character walked away from that instead of embarking on a life of crime, “ I said to my new friend.
He looked at me thoughtfully, I saw a gleam grow in his eyes that I found exciting.
“Nancy, out of curiosity, if I’m not prying, you mentioned your brother would like my Raffles’s story?”
It was a delicious question, one I had been hoping "Raffles" would ask. I picked up my pendant as I answered, my mouth dry with anticipation to see his reaction.
“Yes he would, your Raffle story is similar to a game my brother came up with.
“Please tell me more, it sounds rather interesting, and I bet you have fun playing it.” He said, with excited curiosity.
I giggled. “Well, we play it in the woods. I wear a play dress and play jewelry. My brother actes as the thief who tries to catch me and rob me of my jewels. Then, if he does, he hides and I play the detective trying to find him. I know it sounds rather odd.”
He gently took my hand. “No, not at all odd, as I said, sounds rather exciting.”
“Yes, very exciting “Raffles” added a faraway look in his eyes.
A silence ensued and I happened to look up at the raised platform of the dance floor and saw mum and father dancing there.
He turned around, followed my eyes.
“I see you're looking at that lady, pretty in blue, with the sparkly sapphire jewels”
I guiltily nodded yes, turning to look at him. “If you wait a bit, you will meet them. That’s my mum and father.
Turning back to face me, his eyes went down to mine.
“You and your mother are both are very pretty, if I may be so bold?”
He took up my hand and kissed it as he asked this.
“But now, I must be toddling off, taken up too much of your time I’m afraid .”
We both stood up to say goodbye.
Without thinking, I happily held out my hands for a friendly hug to thank my “Raffles” for being so very nice and entertaining.
He did so willingly and I felt his reassuring fingers securely patting up along my back. it felt very nice and I became aware of a rather pleasant prickling-like sensation in some very good feeling areas.
He looked at me up and down smiling.
“Well “Nancy” I hope you liked my Raffles story.
I looked up at him with an intriguing, almost hopeful expression. Thinking of his story, thinking my twin brother would have loved to have been there. I then asked, holding my breath:
“Do you think Raffles regretted not playing the games those boys were up to?”
My heart was beating miles a minute, and I started to place my hand upon it to still it.
Before I could, he took that hand up in his.
Holding it, he told me, while patting down along my wrist and arm reassuringly…
“I think Raffles is the type never to regret anything, what do you think?”
I nodded my head happily satisfied. Feeling my earrings move along my face as my hair fell out of place just a little bit more.
I remembered having watched those earrings in mum’s mirror. I had quite liked the way they glittered. I was hoping he had noticed also.
As I looked into those friendly blue eyes, I believe he had noticed, for I could see their shimmering reflection in them.
He smiled at me broadly.
“Here “Nancy” allow me to get you seated.”
Such a gentleman I thought as he pulled out my chair and gripped his fingers supportively along my arms as I slid forward.
He then again lifted and kissed my hand.
“Righto,” he nodded and was off.
I was feeling a warm tingling sensation over the whole adventure. I placed my hands down between my legs and happily mulled back over the whole experience as I rocked back and forth in my seat.
Was this what it was like to be treated with special attention from a handsome stranger?
I had felt so lifted away as he had hugged me. And his fingers felt like heaven as he had run them ever so gently through my hair. I locked my legs together as I shivered over reliving that feeling.
So, now I was again left alone to my own devices. But with really nothing to do.
After a happily spent 45 minutes of daydreaming and imagining different scenarios over how my meeting the charming Raffles playing stranger could have gone, I realized that I had a sudden urge to do something, anything than just sitting here.
I daringly decided to explore the off-limit gardens.
I pushed back my chair with determination and rose.
Grabbing my purse, I moved off in the direction of the balcony. I skirted the outer wall, going past the main door, and reached the outdoor balconies entrance. I had not been spotted, successfully avoiding the dance floor and bar area.
I looked around. No rental cops were now in the area.
I turned the corner with a beating heart, snuck underneath the rope at the stairs entrance, and scurried down.
Reaching the ground I looked around. Catching my breath as my beating heart slowed down. I saw the hedges, and the woods off to the side, a path running along in between.
I took the path, knowing it would be out of sight of the upper balcony.
My excitement over going on an adventure increased as I walked, taking in the cool air, marveling over the moonlit beauty. I came to a side entrance and found myself in a rose garden. The roses were beautiful and fragrant. Off in the distance, I heard a fountain bubbling.
I pulled the now loose clip from my hair, shaking my head as I felt my hair fall to my shoulders.
Feeling more comfortable, I looked around, deciding on what to do next.
Some of the roses surrounded a white marble statue of Cupid. I walked the 10 paces from the wood path up to it, bending down to smell the roses.
Suddenly a rabbit jumped from the judge, startling me. I gave out a loud gasp, my hand holding onto my breast to quell the renewed pounding of my heart.
I then giggled at my silliness.
But a chilly feeling washed over me as I realized I was out here all alone.
I became very aware of how I looked
“Dressed to Kill” as Father had said.
“And I knew why I was warned not to go off exploring on my own.” I thought to myself, visions of what could happen filled my head, fueled by what I had seen on the Telly and the games I played with my twin.
I began to turn. Intent on losing no time to get back to the stone staircase.
It was then something small hit the fountain with a shocking clang.
I totally jumped out of my skin.
Suddenly a pair of cold hands slipped over my eyes and I was pulled back against what was unmistakably a man’s figure.
I gasped, my heart leaping up. Within a split second, I had thoughts that it was my twin brother playing a game. But I knew he was not here, and this was not one of our games.
My hand went to my chest, grasping my pendent as my whole figure wilted and my head began to swirl.
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End of Part One
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Masquerade Ball
2 parts
Part 2
“Nancy’s” view Continues
A voice quietly said from behind my back.
“ Hello, Samantha, fancy meeting you here.”
“Raffles!” I blurted with relief, as his hands pull away. I felt his fingers caressing alongside my face, then along through my hair.
He stepped back, and I quickly turned around. With a deep sigh of relief, it was really him, my Raffles.
“Not playing a game alone, are ye Lass?” He asked me, blue eyes twinkling.
“No,” I said shaking my hair.
He smiled, pulling his hands from his pockets,
I then lectured…” you gave me quite the start sir. “ then I giggled, unable to control my emotions and pleasure of his appearance here in this deserted garden.
He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it so I was looking up into his eyes.
“Stand still,” he commanded and moved around behind me.
“Good thing I didn’t do what first popped into my devious mind..”
I felt his knuckle go into my back…
”Playing your games. Now Stick ‘ em up miss .”
“Good thing you didn’t I would have peed myself... I giggled.
“Raffles” chuckled:
“Stay in character miss .”
We’re the words I heard from behind me
I raised up my hands, imagining like I was actually being held up. My heart began to race again with a feeling of delicious danger as I spoke.
“What do you want from me?”
Raffles, still holding his knuckle into my back …reached out his other hand with an open palm as he spoke.
”Put your hands down, I’ve taken a fancy to that bracelet of yours. So please hand it over. “
I shivered, saying smartly. “I don’t believe a real thief would say please …”
My friend “Raffles” responded.
“Would my real victim ask that? Try a different tack.”
Trembling again, with delicious delight. I played along.
“No sir, not my bracelet, anything but that …”
“That’s better, a bit of heartfelt pleading can never heart.
After a second the hand withdrew.
Raffles laughed amiably…
“Ok miss, keep your bracelet then. “
He chuckled from behind, removing his knuckle….
“It was only a thought I had when I saw you out here walking alone, remembering the story of the games you play with your brother, did I do ok?”.
“Smashing .” I giggled gleefully “Spot on.”
I put my hands down to my sides as Raffles placed a hand on my shoulder and ran it down my satin blouse’s sleeve while he came back around to face me.
“All kidding aside, you really shouldn’t be out here alone “Nancy” someone less inviting as me may have been about. And I don’t mean your brother. So let’s see you back safe Lass.”
I nodded.
He lifted my hand and pulled my back to him.
Coddling along against his warm figure, Raffles led me back along the path to the stairway.
“I’ll be leaving you here “Nancy” I was on my way home.
I looked up into his face. “it was fun meeting you, sorry you have to go. “
“So am I Lass.”
We embraced in a deep hug.
As we broke apart, He ran his fingers up my side, then lifted my hair.
He let my hair down, his fingers tingling as he touched along my ears and face as he spoke.
“A Very pretty one you are, and don’t ever let anyone say differently.”
I shivered with excitement over his praise as, with a clenched fist, he held my chin up, looking deep within my eyes. But he had such a sad look in his eyes.
I couldn’t help myself. I practically leaped up against him and tightly squeezed him in my arms.
We finally broke apart. He smiled. Looking like he had been relieved of some troubling thought.
“Go now, you before I change my mind about playing games.”
Letting me go with a chuckle, I turned and went up to the stairs, turning I blew him a kiss.
He was still watching, hands in his vest pocket, he pulled them out and caught it..acting like he was putting it inside his vest.
“My second this evening.” I heard him say mysteriously…
Then turning away, he went off down along the path.
I turned and went up the stairs, feeling lighter than I had all evening.
I was soon sneaking back onto the upstairs balcony.
With a start, I saw the backside of father off in a corner with some of his lads. Smoking a cigar.
I hightailed it out back through the entrance before slowing down to a walk.
As I made my way back I was still riding on air.
“What a delicious adventure I was having, one I was not expecting at all.”
I saw that my mum was back sitting at the table.
She did not notice me approaching, her eyes had a distant, far-off look, and she was smiling over something.
I gave a cheery hello as I went to my chair, though my heart was pounding.
Mum snapped out of her reverie and smiled at me. I could tell she was a bit tipsy from drinking wine all evening.
I also noticed with surprise that her neckline was striking bare. She had taken off her pretty necklace. Why? I wondered as mum spoke to me.
“Where did you go off to, babe?”
“To the loo, I unabashedly lied.” The words came out with surprisingly no hesitation.
“Having a good time?” she asked.
“Brilliant,” I said, telling no lies.
“I’m am having a lovely time also,” she answered an unasked question with a giggle.
She went on with a story I could see she was aching to tell someone.
“It all started when a rude man ran into me while your father was getting drinks. That wasn’t so nice, but then…”
And she looked off rather dreamily, which I thought was rather silly
“Honey, then I ran into the most darling young man. All dressed in black. He had seen that man bump into me with no apologizing, so he did so for him, then he asked me to dance. “ she said, blushing rather prettily.
“Told me he was dressed as an undertaker didn’t he, that he was there to collect souls. Then he told me the most marvelous stories about what young lads your age would bet on.”
“At a wedding?” I asked cautiously, not about to admit that I may have already met him.
“No, he talked about being at a cricket match and the older lads betting in on stealing a kiss from a girl.”
As she told me this mum was stroking the neckline of her gown, noticeably bare without her pretty necklace. . So WHY had she taken it off I pondered? It had looked so nice sparkling along there.
I started to ask about the necklace when an older lady began yelling out from a table across the room
“It’s missing! Has anyone here seen my daughter’s diamond bracelet? Cecilia is missing one of hers!” The older lady wailed.
I stare at mum, watching horrified by her reaction:
Mum’s hand shot to her neck, and I saw the startled look fill her eyes as she realized her sapphire diamond necklace was missing also.
“She had not been the one to remove her necklace!” I thought with a stark awareness
What sinister activity had been going on here this evening?
Remembering the garden game with Raffles I quickly lift my hand studying my wrist. My bracelet was still there. As well as all my rings.
I was starting to breath a sigh of relief when mum pulled back my hair, her eyes wide with shock
Honey, your earrings are gone. I reach up and feel nothing. My eyes also grow wide. What is going on?
By now the whole venue was in an uproar. Apparently, several other ladies were also checking, and some just then noticed the loss of their jewellery. Verbal gasps and mumbling could be heard amongst the tables.
Father, still out on the upper floor balcony at the time, heard the commotion.
Reacting instinctively, he had the rental security block the exits, nobody was to leave, then called in at his police station for reinforcements
He then showed up at our table to see how we were doing.
He was shocked and dismayed that we both had apparently fallen victims to the criminal shenanigans played out that evening.
He asked mum if she could think of anything out of the ordinary that had happened?
She mentioned being bumped by “that” man while waiting by the bar for my father to get his brandy. Neither could say if they remembered seeing mum wearing her necklace after that. Father admitting he had been more focused on meeting up with his cigar and brandy drinking lads that he was on “That prat!”
This made me want to believe that it had not been the handsome stranger we had both danced with as the culprit.
“And if he had not been the one to take mother’s necklace, then he was probably not responsible for taking the jewels I was missing. And I was not going to hurt my memories of his most welcome attention to me, be tarnished by accusing him without merit.” I told myself.
As mum and father were discussing this, my mind was flying. For I knew father, and mum would be asking me if I had had anything odd happen this evening.
For one thing, I was not about to admit sneaking off into the road gardens alone.
I myself in my heart strongly suspected “Raffles.” He had been too smooth and suave. But I did not have any real evidence. did not have any real evidence. And papa always said circumstantial evidence is no real proof.
No, I assured myself, at no time had I felt a prick on my wrist, and itch on my ears, a tug at my throat, nor a twitch anywhere else on my person that would have alerted me to the devious tricks an unknown someone had played upon my “dressed to kill” figure that evening.
So I, with all innocence, was able to play dumb at first when my father asked me how I thought my jewels had been lost.
Then, realizing that I was to be questioned like the rest when Father’s Detectives showed up.
Prompted by father, I gave it some real thought. Then it clicked. I remembered those two twit girls running into me while in the loo.
So I told my father that story, as well as his detectives later on. I ruefully admitted to not getting a clear enough look to be able to describe them.
And I got away with that story, though my father told me I should have waited and gone into the loo with mum.
I never mentioned the meeting with the mysterious handsome male calling himself “Raffles” to anyone.
The fact that Mum never said anything about her dance with him, helped me cement any concerns that he may have been the culprit. For I had definitely found a soft spot in my heart for the handsome stranger with the deep soothing voice and easy manner.
I have always associated my meeting with “Raffles” from a film line heard years later. later. One lady in satin was telling another lady in velvet that she had known a mutual acquaintance since childhood.
“And even back then, whenever he passed by us on the stairs, all the girls would place a hand on their hearts… And their jewels….”
I had also felt he was a kindred spirit for the way he asked about the games my brother and I played. He had seemed to enjoy hearing about them.
And actually, Father’s detectives never got a clear story from any of the(mostly intoxicated) victims that evening concerning pinpointing when they thought their jewels had been taken.
It was then decided that there must have been a small invading gang of male and female thieves who quickly worked the room, targeting our jewels. The real mystery was in their methods.
From what I heard the thief(s) made quite a nice haul, not in quantity, but quality. No one was ever caught.
Mum seemed more concerned that my earrings had fallen victim to thieves, more so than she was over the loss of her necklace.
She accepted the fact that she herself had been a victim. Reasoning that it was the risk a lady always takes when wearing out her good jewels.
So we were all shocked by what happened the next day.
I had gone right to bed that evening, actually early morning, for it was 2:00 am when I was undressing in my room. I had placed my purse upon my antique vanity.
The next morning I discovered the purse on the floor. Assuming that our Golden Retriever, Gypsy’s tail had knocked it over, I picked it up.
Looking inside I saw something flickering.
Emptying it on the bed I was shocked to see the earrings I thought had been lost!
Mum, father, and I all were baffled over what had happened?
It was a proper mystery.
The earrings and my green velvet purse had to be taken in for evidence. Though no clues were discovered.
Which was fine by me. especially since Father Christmas that year brought me my own grown-up set of rhinestone jewellery. And a new dangling sapphire and diamond necklace for mum, that far outshone the one stolen from her that unlucky evening.
Later on that month I went to the library to do a bit of Nancy Drew-like sleuthing.
I was shocked upon learning whom AJ Raffles had been:
A famous cricket player by day, a secret master jewel thief at night!
I decided to just let sleeping dogs lay.
(Carl Zeiss Jena Flektogon f2,8/35mm)
I am always fascinated when an old lens begins to "paint" by itself in some situations, shot wide open. It enhances, unasked, the inherent beauty in natural structures, like in this case, of some tiny, dry and, at first sight, quite unimpressive flowers. No editing at all, just framing.