Captured by the Path

A picture in 100 words …

Taken 14 January 2013 on the walkway to the beach at Victor Harbor near Adelaide, South Australia

Taken 14 January 2013 on the boardwalk to the beach at Victor Harbor near Adelaide, South Australia

With a slight bend, the boardwalk vanishes amid the vivid green abutting the sand. The ocean of rushes it floats atop is dry and brittle. Juxtaposed to the contrast of a sea we know is just beyond but can barely see, the pale strands weave and sway with the coastal wind, drawing us along the path to the cool shadows.

The wood is sturdy underfoot as we walk, handrail beneath our fingertips warmed by the afternoon. We pause and breathe of the salt. Jude beckons me on, but I am captured by the path.

From here, it has no end.

Advertisements

Room of Random Shadows

I get the best shadows in my room when the light is right.

Behold the Evangelion in Middle Earth Shadow:

Eva Shadow

Now, see the Dragon Over a Calendar and Cupboard Door Shadow:

Dragon Shadow

 

Finally, marvel at the wonder of the Evangelion Takes On a Dragon in Middle Earth Over a Calendar and Cupboard Door Shadow:

Dragon Eva Shadow

 

Also, it’s my first WordPress Anniversary 🙂 Thanks to everyone who’s had a bit of a look at my stuff throughout the year and, particularly, thanks to everyone who’s commented and stuck around for more. I’ve kept this up longer than I thought I would. Hope to continue in that vein 🙂

 

 

 

Mathematics in the Elements

A picture in 100 words:

Taken 9 July 2006 out a car window while driving over a bridge somewhere between Sydney and Brisbane

Taken 9 July 2006 out a car window while driving over a bridge somewhere between Sydney and Brisbane

Heaven was in the water while  river in turn claimed sky. Symmetry flanked the blackness of sun-stripped hills, and my eyes were irrevocably captured. Mathematics knows no boundaries. It was in the air and water and the earth that divides, alive in the elements and the cloud that streaked ever outward, an explosion of soft violet.

The blemish I now plainly see, a stark failure of light and technology captured upon this moment, took years to pierce my awareness.

‘How can you not have seen?’ Jude asked in disbelief.

I ignored the scepticism.  No human error could ruin this magic.

 

Crimson Remnants

A picture in 100 words:

Taken on 25 November 2011 somewhere that is quite impressive in autumn in Kyoto, Japan

Crumbling remnants of crimson autumn drifted damp and dispersed with moss on the creek’s bank. The passing season’s lingering wholeness was evident only by reflection; a maple stretched its limbs down deep into clearing skies.

‘If they keep piling up, they could block the flow,’ Jude noted, indicating where inlet streamed into river. Fallen leaves were abundant there, but even should every leaf above drop, the current would not be dammed.  I said so, distantly. Though the world was tranquil and seemed still, I was struck by how very old I felt.  Time just kept passing.

And winter was coming.

(Forgive me; couldn’t help it :))

The Mist Lifted

A picture in 100 words:

Taken 7 July 2012 while viewing Kobe Bridge with Mum near Maiko Station, Kobe

Taken 7 July 2012 while viewing Kobe Bridge with Mum near Maiko Station, Kobe

Just then, the mist lifted. When before the twin towers had been lost within obscuring particles of low-hanging moisture, they now stood clear, soaring mightily above the deck that extended kilometres across the treacherous strait. Though the distant dark land mass separated sea from sky on the horizon, every square millimetre of the scene before me was coloured the same, differing only in lustre and hue.

From our position below the splendour of modern engineering, Jude let out a low whistle. I was equally impressed, but agreed that travelling to-and-fro each day would be atrocious. What with the ridiculously-expensive toll.

Stars of Day

A picture in 100 words:

Taken 9 April 2009 while viewing cherry blossoms by the river, Uji, Japan

Taken 9 April 2011 while viewing cherry blossoms by the river, Uji, Japan

Even on that one slender branch, the blossoms were uncountable. Bundled in nameless constellations all the more lovely in their briefness, passersby delighted in these stars of day, freeing entire afternoons to immerse in their simple radiance.

The stone bridge, willing servant to centuries of eager feet, linked all adjacent the olive river: path with path, tree with tree, star with star. Below its curve, the deep water twinkled, surface scattered with celestial dust, as it flowed serenely through springtime.

The day was bright. Beside me, Jude sighed contentedly. We lay on our backs, gazing lazily into the blooming sky.