I thought I’d post a fresh picture for once, so here’s one from my jaunt to Greenwich on Friday: someone walking their dogs near some of the C17th sweet chestnut trees.
Giant mossy boles
of ancient chestnuts. A dog
strains at his leash.
There’s a hypnotic quality to wave-watching. I find a safe spot to stand or sit, and then let my mind get in synch with the rhythm of the waves. Among my favourites is to find a place where I can watch the seething, frothy riptide as it churns to wash up and away from the shore. The white caps and foam smash together and frequently rise up to form mountainous crests in the surf.
A wild coast–
white peaks of water rise
between the rocks.
We’ve been distracted by beauty and pain. Stunning sights of sleeping sea otters and stories of rage and murder.
Laid up with pain,
he thinks about the sea otters
sleeping on the waves.
The trees themselves aren’t interesting to photograph, but I had a pleasant half hour looking at lavender blossoms on someone’s dark blue car. It yielded a monochrome effect, with reflected accents of both city and tree.
on the hood of a sky-colored car
float on their shadows.
Rivers in the desert are open for business intermittently. The rest of the time they are tempting trails.
at the bend of a dry river: