November has been incredibly mild; buds are appearing on branches
And perfectly framed roses bring a splash of colour to the season.
Dewy mornings paint the roses
And golden leaves are the perfect backdrop.
But now, the branches are bare and one grey day succeeds the other.
We don’t have snow and light,
So I had to find them in the translucent petals of a rose
As soft as silken snowflakes.
Recently, the hunt for colour has become more difficult
As the sun hides behind its foggy veils.
Which is why I was found lying on the ground –
Causing my neighbour to ask me why I was photographing nettles.
Its flowers are as beautiful as any rose, don’t you think?
Even the humblest of objects have beauty if we take the time to look for it.
For more rosy pictures, please visit: Our World.
Autumn is still hanging on here,
Dancing as much as it can
With the last few leaves so bright.
How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs
(Something for me to bear in mind with a birthday fast approaching…)
When November startles you
With an orange sunburst in one direction —
And a graceful double moon
Admiring her purple beauty in the opposite direction,
Then all you have to do is wait
Until Nature combines the two colours in a final sunset flare
To create a masterpiece.
(And yes, that’s the indomitable Oscar swimming again!)
For more sky fireworks, please visit: Skywatch.
And to see more swimming pets, please go to: Camera Critters.
Last week was Oscar’s birthday
(He’s the dog)
And a gloriously frosty day.
The delicate inner ear of a rose
offered up its secret beauty.
Sunlight sparkled on the pink ears
Of a brave flower still in bloom.
We visited a thousand-year-old rune stone
Rising out of the ground like a tooth,
To remind us that these are the golden years,
The moments to seize, to bathe in,
To remember while they last.
For more golden moments, please visit: Our World.
Many of you know my dog, Oscar, and have enjoyed the story of how we adopted him four and a half years ago.
A few days ago, this sweet-natured boy turned nine.
He fights off snakes in the summer by putting them in his mouth and throwing them into the water;
He swims no matter how cold it gets;
And best of all, he knows that everyone needs a good hug now and then.
(Have I told you he’s more of a lover than a fighter?)
For more loveable creatures, please visit: Camera Critters.
I’m not usually a big fan of pink.
But when Nature takes her paintbrush
And lights up the bowl of the sky with a rainbow of pinks…
Well, who can resist?
And, judging by the looks of things,
I wasn’t the only one who was tickled pink
By the vibrancy of the sunset.
Who says November is always grey?
For more multi-coloured skies, please visit: Skywatch.
It was one of those glorious autumn days
When the chill afternoon air turned
Breath to delicious smoke.
When my daughter met a new friend,
Isa, the New Forest Pony.
(The horse seems to be smiling, don’t you think?)
They rode into the sunlight
And round and round again,
While golden light – as thick as honey –
Made us thankful to feel alive.
(Sometimes you just have to hang onto that feeling of joy for as long as you can.)
For more lively stories, please visit: Our World.
Nearly mid-November and a chill in the air.
Perfect weather for skinny dipping!
The moon slipped into the cool water with silver grace.
The dog looked longingly – in his familiar place – into the purple glow,
And gave into temptation —
Creating delicious ripples in the satin sheet of water.
In the last light of dusk,
A family of feathered beauties
Bathed in the purple moonlight.
For more adventurous creatures, please: Camera Critters.
Acting as a delicate background for long elegant leaves in high heels.
And when the sun shines,
Only delicate ballet shoes remain —
A reminder that renewal can be found in endings.
For more delicate skies, please visit: Skywatch.
The much-maligned dandelion:
Humble, yet unnoticed in its beauty.
Yet when covered in glorious dew
Each feathered seed is alive
Shining like a jewel,
A small spark of sunlight.
To remind us that what we call weeds are, in fact, beautiful flowers.
(Same could be said of most people too.)
For more exquisite shots, please visit: Our World.