The sun breaks through
The early morning fog
With a glorious
Golden hallelujah of light.
(Note to self: Let nothing dim the light that shines within.)
For more serenades, please visit: Skywatch.
The golden evening light of late summer
Transforms even the humblest of flowers
Into works of art:
From downy pillows of fluff
To small wishes ready for take off.
And if you’re lucky,
You might even see a dandelion rainbow.
For more wishes, please visit: Our World Tuesday.
July was a time of long, long summer nights,
And strawberry swirls in the sky.
Pink gave way to
Ruby red –
As the sun sank into the lake
With a sizzling hot splash.
For more gorgeous skies, please visit: Skywatch.
The kids and I spent a wonderful, long day in London recently –
And they had to pull me away as the sun was setting over the Thames.
The lamps were lit up by the golden glow of the sun
And the man seemed blissfully unaware of the seagulls flying up behind him …
Even the double-decker buses looked romantic
As the molten carpet of light flowed over the water.
However, I’m not really a big city kind of person
And am always grateful to be back by ‘my’ lake –
To enjoy its golden beauty.
The sunken boat in this photo reminds me of Rumi:
“Where there is ruin, there is hope for treasure.”
For more treasures, please visit: Skywatch.
I’m celebrating six years of blogging with a look at the Tate Modern – a fabulous museum housed in the former Southbank Power Station – that I visited on my recent trip to England.
The old turbine hall is now the dramatic entrance of the art gallery.
The themes of space and light
Are also present in the art galleries themselves. (They used to be the boiler rooms of the power station).
Even the back of the turbine hall
Is full of light and enormous space.
(That round ball shape on the right is actually a small child.)
As the gallery was closing,
The sun created its own artwork
Of light and shadows and beauty.
For more artistic shots, please visit: Our World Tuesday.
My ‘baby sis’ and I ended up on Brighton Pier one evening
While I was in England.
After a wonderful time with the kids at the amusement park,
We caught a spectacular sunset over the old West Pier.
As we headed back to the car with the lights twinkling,
My daughter burst out, “I wish we could make photos with our eyes.”
Her Aunty Kata (my sister) had a brilliant reply:
“We can. They are called memories.”
(I’m away at a summer cottage here in Sweden until the weekend, so may not be able to visit you. But I do APPRECIATE all your comments!)
For more memories, please visit: Skywatch.
Of a summer sunset;
Long rays of sunlight
Lay flat on the sky
While clouds dance on golden lake –
And, finally, liquid honey
Transforms a humble thistle
Into a magnificent creature of light.
For more happy sunbursts, please visit: Skywatch.
Inside iron, you can find velvet;
Inside the hard, a soft centre –
And in the petal, there resides
The strength to hold up the sky.
For more stories, please visit: Skywatch.
It’s gone ten o’clock at night
And a strange creature with camera
Goes outside looking for the light.
She finds it
In the heart of a flower,
In the magic
Of sunbathing leaves,
In a rainbow
Floating in the clouds
And in the beauty
Of her daughter’s face.
For more light, please visit: Our World Tuesday.
The aria of light returning
Is beautiful music indeed.
The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the sun.
~John Greenleaf Whittier
For more music, please visit: Skywatch.