A wonderful Sunday Promenade in Edinburgh’s fabulous Royal Botanic Gardens today – where autumnal colour changes (already stunningly beautiful) are said to be only just beginning …
I know, I know. Photographers are funny old sticks, forever banging on about the light, the light! But, honestly, Edinburgh autumn days are astonishing. Seasons, fresh morning air, the ever changing foliage, gradations of light …
¿Tú tienes preguntas?
I’m told that our human eyes see ‘only’ a limited spectrum of colour. I can’t count the ever-changing colours and shades present to me in one small rural garden though.
I sometimes think I’ll spend the rest of my days pondering the miracle of what it is to be a human person, to be sentient. So many extraordinary ‘happenings’ need to take place within the confines of my brain to bring about every experience I have.
So, too, for the golden labrador next door. What moves her to bark? And how does an apple tree know how to consistently make apples every year? Or Michaelmas daisies know it’s Michaelmas?
Ah, colours. And questions. My Spanish teacher asks, ‘¿tú tienes preguntas?’
‘Sí, yo tengo muchas preguntas,’ I reply, ‘siempre preguntas!’
in awe and mildly
sad today in autumn’s odd
Colours of new life
One of the simpler joys of today has been the sight and sound of a mother gathering her family and friends for a photo in Princes Street Gardens. ‘Smile, everyone,’ she called, ‘we’re on our holidays.’ And around a dozen voices returned ‘Hoorraaaaayy!’
Build it, and it will come
Empty out a drawer for someone
They will fill it
Share your work every day
People will find it
Walk and your legs will strengthen
Open your hours and your days will fill
Speak as though you’ve arrived
And reality will realign
Spring’s awakening in Edinburgh is wonderfully underway and I’ve been out and about early. Delicious coffee and cake @kates_edinburgh preceded one of my favourite sorts of morning: an amble – in no particular rush and in no particular direction. This is a city that ‘offers itself to your imagination’ (as Mary Oliver might have said of it) – no matter where one roams. Birdsong everywhere speaks today of their having ‘arrived’ (again) and of the energetic building of nests in empty spaces. A beautiful new coffee shop shares its work every day and ‘people will find it.’ My legs do grow stronger, and hours are containers for rich colours and conversations. I speak of my thankfulness and – awakening thereby – the realities of a new season do indeed ‘realign.’
One Edinburgh Thursday
click photos once or twice to enlarge
The multifarious shapes and colours of one afternoon’s walk in Edinburgh moves and astounds me – every time!
more at gardenstudiogram
that there’s many a way to
brighten a grey day
SRM – MM Haiku 83 Day 113
for MWG – during and after corporate meditation
I used to love to walk to school on sunny Spring mornings. The quieter hours still possessed of the mossy, dewy scents of the night – mildest of breezes softly stirring the trees of the park, and dappled light – already suggesting the new dawns that would awaken the synapses of my ever dawdling, day-dreaming brain.
Yes. I have long thought myself familiar with the colours of the spectrum; that I could name them, that I could assign to each a musical note, that I owned favourite orchestral symphonies of light.
But every new day brings surprises – and the sometimes primal response that mists our sight with tears of yearning, or recognition, or unknowing, or delight, or prayer, or a sense of the most exquisite new openness to the charism, the gift of the Universe offering her provision – the ultimate and eternal grace of Love.
And I was surprised indeed by the glory and the colours I encountered in Barcelona’s great Temple of Light. In La Sagrada Família I mistily knew myself a member of the one great and ‘Holy Family’ – the Universe herself. No single one of us ever fully cognisant of the glories of creation’s rainbow – while each of us is graced with ever-changing experience of hues and colours yet unnamed.
Blencathra in majesty
Some days I think twice about lugging one of my much loved but heavy cameras along on a walk. Most days the camera wins. Some days the photographic results are not especially inspiring, and I wonder for a second time! But today I was glad to have the big Nikon with me. There seemed to be every size and cloud-type aloft, tempering and lending many shades of nuance to the fundamentally deep blue of the dome above them. And on days like this, cheeks burning, eyes watering, fingers stiff with cold, the sight of mighty Blencathra in majesty never fails to move me. Every day this mountain sports a new coat – but day or night, hot or cold, light or dark, the sheer magnificence and permanence is an abiding delight – and comfort.