UnAnsel Series – Love in the Mist … Twisted

Thanks to Sharon over at newpillowbook for suggesting I start to call this series the “UnAnsel Series”. I always thought “Anti-Ansel Adams” sounded a bit harsh and inflammatory, but I couldn’t think of another way to describe this type of selective blurriness. (It really IS selective … honest!) 🙂

Anyway, the UnAnsel Series it is from now on.

I’m throwing another entry into the weekly challenge pot, too, because this Love-in-the-Mist flower, as it begins to die down, definitely shows signs of being rather twisted.

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Anti-Ansel Adams Series – Narcissus

I know.

I took my time.

And after all that effort I put into explaining my theory behind the Anti-Ansel Adams Series too! (If you missed it, you can find it here).

I expect, for the time being, I’ll stick with flowers. I took this picture while I was out in my back yard. The light was fading, and I could hardly see the image after I took it. But I clicked a button on Photoshop – I call it “season-all” –  you know that one … Image > Adjustments > Adjust All.

And Voila!

This was the result.

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

 

After The Storm

It’s so good to see how much the Broken Light Collective has grown since its inception in 2012. I posted a couple of times on it waaay at the beginning, and this photograph of mine has been featured today. As you will read, my life has changed drastically in that time too, and any channels that highlight the seriousness and pervasiveness of mental illness should be applauded.

 

I called this post “After the Storm”

Broken Light Collective

Photo taken by contributor “Alice,” a 49-year-old woman living in the north of England. She has suffered with severe depressive episodes since her late teens, but only two years ago was diagnosed with Cyclothymia, a milder form of Bipolar Disorder, followed recently by an additional diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. Along with her own struggles with mental health, her son, then aged 12, began physically assaulting her and has now been diagnosed with Conduct Disorder. Alice began her blog Alice Through the Macro Lens in 2012 in an effort to try to understand her journey through the mental health process and has used this forum to display some of her photography, in which she finds solace. Recently, she began a sister blog, Like a Circle in a Spiral to document the struggles of raising a child with his own difficulties.

About this photo: “It was with no small irony that I just looked back to a couple of contributions I…

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Weekly Photo Challenge: On the Move

I expect there’ll be all sorts of “moving” entries for this week’s photo challenge, but I thought I’d refer back to what I seem to know best … bugs 🙂

Only bits of this hoverfly were really on the move, I’ve read differing reports about how fast its wings actually beat (anything between 120 and 300 beats per second) but either way, it’s bloody fast. Even with the old “Anti-Ansel Adams” fast shutter speed going on, I still only managed a blur for the wings.

What a way to live!

(click on the photos for bigger and better viewing)

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

 

My 200th post. The Hawthorn Tree

I know I posted this a couple of days ago, but I’m going to be sneaky and link this to the Weekly Photo Challenge for the topic of Spring! I think it fits quite nicely, and besides, we all need a bit of hope, so the more viewers the merrier 🙂

 

OK … 200 posts in in 26 months isn’t the most prolific blogging record, although considering the nightmare my life has been and the fact I did leave the scene for over a year, it’s not a bad achievement. So figured I’d better make it a decent post, as I may not make it to another hundred.

I wrote the following tale a couple of years ago, in a creative writing class, for our local MIND newsletter, and I’ve read it out loud a couple of times at our WRAP (Wellness Recovery Action Plan) group.

I noticed, when I was out on one of my little walks in the countryside, that the hedgerow branches in the shadows weren’t blooming as vigorously as the ones in the sunshine, and it got me thinking …

Feel free to share this with someone you feel may be losing hope in the cards life is dealing. I know I do on many occasions, and we all need to dig deep to find our own inner strength at times.

Peace.

THE HAWTHORN TREE – A Tale of Hope

 

 

Near a pond, near a wood, stood a hawthorn tree. It was very tall and very grand, and it would have been considered a very Majestic hawthorn tree had there not been a small problem.

 

After winter was over and the ice had thawed, the tree began to grow shoots along its branches, and the shoots began to sprout leaves. As the days became warmer, the tree began to grow flower buds; hundreds and hundreds of clusters of little white flower buds tightly curled into balls. The buds waited patiently to open into pretty hawthorn blossoms. They needed plenty of sun to warm them and encourage them to open up and say hello to the world.

 

As the days grew longer and the winter clouds began to dissolve away, the hawthorn tree prepared itself to burst into blossom. The buds became plumper and their stalks grew longer, lifting them away from the leaves so that they could capture as much of the sun as they could when it passed by.

 

When the time came that the sun was warm and bright enough, the buds readied themselves to open up and blossom. They stretched their stems and followed the bright, golden orb as it made its way across the sky. But even though the day was long and the sun’s journey took it from one edge of the sky to the other, some of the buds could not see the sun. Some of the branches were facing the other way. The tree called out to the sun and asked it to send light and warmth to the other branches, but the sun said it was bound to travel along the same route every day and had no way to reach them. Even as it tried to send the warmest, brightest light to all parts of the tree, some of the branches would always remain in the shade, and the buds were never touched by the sun’s rays of life.

 

This continued for many years, and the tree continued to grow taller and wider and stronger. But it could never be a Majestic hawthorn tree, because there would always be a side of it that remained dark green; where the bees never visited and the insects and birds never made their homes. As spring brought warmer days, the sunny side of the hawthorn tree burst into glorious white blossoms, filling the air with heady perfumes and bringing the bees and the birds to its branches. But on the shady side of the tree, the buds remained tightly closed and were filled with sadness. They longed to be able to flourish and dance like the other blossoms, but they knew they were disadvantaged. They didn’t have the same opportunities as the blossoms on the sunny side, and they could not see how it was possible to grow when they never received any warmth or light from the sun. It had always been this way since the tree was a sapling, and they resigned themselves to believe it would always be this way in the future.

 

“We are doomed to stay closed,” one bud cried.

“Never to be pollinated,” wailed another.

“Never to be nested!” another called.

“Never to bloom,” sighed another.

“We may as well die,” whispered a fifth.

 

More buds joined the lament, until the shady side of the hawthorn tree was mourning with misery and defeat.

“Nonsense!”

A voice piped up from the middle of the shady side and stopped the wailing in its tracks.

“Our side of the tree may be dark, and it may be cold and gloomy … but we did not become buds just to give up now!”

A young bud stretched its stem as the others looked on. The bud continued:

“Will you wallow in your own misery forever? You think because we live in the shade we cannot find our own light.  We may not have such an easy, warm and bright life as those on the other side of the tree, but surely, that should make us stronger! I know we can still find a way to bloom. It will just need a little more effort. We have our nutrition and we have our health, and if we try a little harder and believe in ourselves, we can blossom too! The bees will visit us and the birds will nest. We are young and strong, and I, for one, am not ready to give up yet.”

With that, in spite of the darkness and in spite of the lack of warmth, the bud pushed and pushed and pushed until … pop!  It burst open to reveal the most beautiful blossom on the tree.

The other buds on the shady side cheered his success and, from him, gained a new determination to succeed, even in the shade. They pushed and pushed, and even when it all seemed too difficult, they willed each other on to push again. Soon the shady side of the hawthorn tree was full of blossoms, spreading their heady aroma across the pond and through the woods.

The hawthorn tree was very proud. It began fluffing up its leaves, shaking its blossoms, and stretching its branches higher for the world to see. Bees and birds and insects of all species came to visit from miles around to pollinate and make their homes there. The tree no longer had a patch of dark green where blossoms should have been. It was draped in the most marvellous cloak of white flowers on every branch and every side.

It truly was a Majestic hawthorn tree.

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

 

Another need, another poppy …

See why here

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

 

Poppy for peace

It has been a tough week so far. My mind is not still.

Poppies help me feel peaceful.

 

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze most softly lulling to my soul….
John Keats – Endymion

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

 

 

Spring has sprung! WPC: Inside a snowdrop

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste Snow-drop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years!
– William Wordsworth –

I lived overseas for many years (a two-week trip that lasted 17 years …), and despite my love of the wanderlust life, there were a few things I missed about England throughout that time: one was Marmite, another was Woodpecker Cider … and telephone boxes, and double decker buses, and Coronation Street, and sarcasm.
But, more than sherbet fountains or teabags or the Arctic Monkeys, after living in the sweltering balminess of places such as Southwest Texas and Louisiana, I found myself longing for seasons!
Granted, upstate New York had seasonal change, but their winters were a bit extreme, unless trudging through 8-foot snowdrifts is your idea of fun.
No, I missed English seasons – unpredictable, often erratic, with mild winters, cold summers, and slushy autumns … And most of all, I missed the English spring and the flowers that come with it.

So when I returned to England with my son and we “settled” in our first real home, I made a point of filling every nook and cranny of our tiny back yard with bulbs that flower every spring and herald the new green of the year.

Snowdrops are my particular favourite. There’s not a lot to them – just a trio of white waxy petals with a dash of green inside …. but they are often the first flowers to nuzzle their way through the frost, and the sight of them always brings a smile to my face.

(As usual, click on the picture for a better look).

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Weekly Photo Challenge: Abandoned

Thought I’d go for the challenge properly this week. I expect lots of buildings will be highlighted, but my favourite abandoned building, as shown in earlier posts here and here has been locked down securely to prevent any accidents.
I expect some entries may represent more profound abandonments, such as homeless people, or animals.

Sadly, once again, I haven’t risen to such levels.
Instead, I dug out a couple more pictures I took on a day trip to Whitby last October. I was walking along the jetty to go take a closer look at the breakwater and lighthouse when I stumbled across a gladiola plant … as you do …. just laying there. It can’t have been there long, because it seemed quite fresh, and the wind was ripping across the jetty. But I thought it was a beautiful deep shade of purple/indigo. Rather than move it, I decided to get down on my hands and knees … as you do … on a windswept jetty … in the freezing cold … and took a couple of pics with Whitby in the background.
If you look closely, you might even catch a passing glimpse of the gothic Whitby Abbey.

(click on the photos for bigger, clearer images)

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Fool’s Parsley again … with a visitor – Wee beastie #60

While we’re on the subject of Fool’s Parsley, I’ve been quite surprised how many times the plant has cropped up in my pictures. So I may pop a few posts in dedicated to what generally amounts to a pesky, and rather prolific, weed.

I’ve actually included its close relative, the Cow Parsley, before in one of my “wee beastie” posts here, and I assume it is called Fool’s Parsley because it is easily mistaken for Cow Parsley (a bit like Fool’s Gold is mistaken for gold).

This time, it had a very small visitor. The caterpillar can only have been about half a centimetre long – and I have no idea what it will eventually become.

Perhaps someone out there has a clue?

 

 

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]