I am thinking about the lost things.
maybe my heart is full of sky
so maybe the only thing separating loving and living is an oh of amazement – the breathless sound the sky makes when falling the final gradient from dusk to twilight and back again, the way your eyes keep searching for stars only an evenmist away, how your fingertips keep feeling for worlds closeted within atoms,… Continue reading maybe my heart is full of sky
Victorian England at 12,000 Feet
A tea party at the water's edge.
Death Among the Wildflowers
Abstractions from the Embers
A fire smoulders on a dark night in Bangalore, India. we burn with unapologetic fury against the dark, the dark, the creeping creeping dark; sing with unrestrained vigor into the silence, the silence the humming humming silence; live with undimmed spark for the light, the light it grows and it grows and it grows
against this sky’s endless canvas, paint your image with your wings: call it a self-portrait in ultraviolet. I've been experimenting a bit with photo-editing lately. This, of a blue-throated bee-eater from a trip to Sungei Buloh quite a few months back, is one of the results. I'm not sure what I make of it -… Continue reading Flight
insufferable delicacy infused into the bend of knee, turn of head: a water-borne ballet, beat kept by still water, reflecting this moment then, now, forevermore. This will - finally - be the last of the birds from my trip to the Llobregat Delta in Spain, almost eight months on. (What can I say. I procrastinate.)… Continue reading Long-legged Tchaikovskys
For the Sound of Sunset
and so the light rises, over bone-still hills; a river fills vast silences with the thin whistling of time and time again, the susurrating trees becoming their own somnolent witnesses. About a month and a half ago, because I suck at updating, we went for a hike in the Himalayas. It was - amazing, as… Continue reading For the Sound of Sunset