Posted on April 26, 2021
by Hilda Conkling
Snow-white shawls . . .
Golden faces . . .
Countryside, hillside, wayside people . . .
Selling dew and yellow flour
To make bread
For some city of elves. . . .
by Emily Dickinson
The daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
“Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?”
“Because, sir, love is sweet!”
Posted on February 14, 2021
Trawling through the wildlife archives with one eye on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.
Posted on January 20, 2021
This is the first Nature picture I ever entered into competition in the FIAP International Salons, on a wing and a prayer really. It was accepted into twelve Salons worldwide and, although it never won any awards, it encouraged me to keep competing.
I still don’t like wasps, though.
Posted on January 17, 2021
As we’re still confined to barracks with not much hope of any bird photography on the horizon, I’ve collected a few winter birds taken in the East Midlands (UK) over the last few years. We can only hope that one day we’ll be out in the sunshine again listening to birdsong.
Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all …
Posted on January 14, 2021
NOT MUCH, TO BE HONEST, MAYBE IT’S A COUPLE OF INCHES, IF THAT. BUT IT’S ENOUGH FOR WARNINGS NOT TO TRAVEL UNLESS IT’S ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.
SORRY, BUT BORIS GOT THERE BEFORE YOU!
HERE ARE A COUPLE OF GREYLAG GEESE WHO OBVIOUSLY DIDN’T GET THE WARNING.