Weekly Photo Challenge: Twist

I wasn’t keen on this week’s challenge. Firstly, because I don’t have internet anymore at my house and only have limited time at the library to log on. And secondly, because I have to rely on the pictures I have stored on my computer (which aren’t many since I lost everything from an external hard drive).

Most of my stuff is nature-focused, for no better reason than it’s easier to find and closer to home. But I do get a bit of a kick when I come across an example of nature reclaiming its territory. On this day, I noticed that somebody had spray painted a wall along a trail in the woods. They had pulled away (rather forcefully and dismissively) a lot of the ivy that had originally clung to the wall in order to create the space to paint, and piles of it were dumped on the ground alongside. The twist in this tale is that the plant world doesn’t go out like that, and in parts, little by little, and inch by inch, the ivy was beginning to creep back and reclaim the wall.

 

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

 

Rain and me …

I tried to write a rain poem to accompany this photo, but in the end I just couldn’t say it better than Shel Silverstein did in 1974.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand–
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said–
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
Shel Silverstein 1974

(Click on the picture if you want it bigger and better – I recommend it with this one!)

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Through a dewdrop darkly …

You may recall that yesterday’s quick pic of a sycamore seedling had tiny dew droplet in the background …?

These two pictures are taken from the other side of that composition.
Voila!
Tiny dew droplet now takes front and centre stage!
Feel free to click on the pictures, and see them in all their microscopic glory:

A host,
Innumerable as the stars of night
Or stars of morning, dew-drops which the sun
Impearls on every leaf and every flower.
John Milton – Paradise Lost

Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Predictable unpredictability

A Canvas of the Minds has, for the past couple of years been leading the call for the destigmatising of Mental Health issues and asking members of the blogging world to open the platform for discussion within their own forums. I did initially create “Alice Through the Macro Lens” as an outlet to try to make some sense out of my own journey through the murky fog that has been my world for many years, and more prominently to understand how my behaviours affect those closest to me. So it was a little ironic that, when things became really tough, the blog became dormant.
But I have returned with a renewed determination to continue my writing, along with the photos, and I will take the pledge asked for by the Canvas group:

“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”

“The rain to the wind said,
You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged–though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”
Robert Frost

(click on the picture for a better look)

Predictable Unpredictability:

And just when I thought it was safe to re-enter the social arena with some semblance of functionality…

it happened again.

This morning, despite a terrible night’s unrest, I woke up feeling quite positive. I did the normal things people do to start their day off: Got out of bed (trust me, that’s not always an activity that comes easily!), got dressed, ate some cold, home-made rice pudding left over from last night, brushed teeth and hair, and even remembered to take the dog over the road and threw a ball for her for a while. Then I caught the bus into town and met up with a tutor at the local college who gave me a guided tour around the Art Department. The idea of spending my days creating art on a serious scale set me buzzing so much that I happily filled out the application forms to attend during the next school year.

Life felt good, and I admit a little part of me let myself believe that I was cured. I mean, I had finally managed to secure a couple of appointments with the psych (after a nine-month fight to see one). He prescribed me a new medication, and it’s now about that time when “those kind” of meds are supposed to start kicking in.
On top of that, I’d had a productive weekend. On Saturday morning, I’d attended a workshop called the “Totality of Possibilities,” and I’ve been looking into the mirror and sending myself positive affirmations ever since. Then I tried a “Life Drawing” class for the first time ever on Saturday afternoon and discovered I’m not that bad at charcoaling naked people either.
Even on Sunday, I managed to stay cogent enough to tell half of my life story to the Court-appointed psych, who has been assigned the hefty task of furnishing a legally binding opinion about what he believes went wrong with my son and me for the family court judge next month.

But today, around lunchtime, within minutes of arriving at one of my “safer” places to visit – a drop-in community centre that I have started to attend when I just feel the need to have a cuppa, or chat, or to crochet a flower or something – my mood, without warning, dropped like a lead balloon. All of a sudden, there was no talking to me, no reasoning with me; no niceties or pleasantries could talk me round. My head became full of white noise, and I hated everyone and everything. Most of all I hated me and my life. Within the space of minutes (if not seconds), the proverbial fan was bombarded with the proverbial s–t, and I plummeted into the doldrums of irritability and blubberingness once more.

For what it’s worth, the worst thing about these ever-increasing, ever more serious episodes of unpredictable moodiness is the fact that I am sorely aware that they are happening, as they are happening – and that they are wrong – yet I feel powerless to prevent them. The best I can settle for is that, in my consciousness, I am still able to fight the searing impulses that tell me to hurl across the room any inanimate object that isn’t glued to the floor, or to take a nosedive through the nearest shop window. Instead, today, I managed (just!) to grab my coat and leave the premises without insulting anybody, before catching the bus home and falling apart as soon as I made it inside the front door.

I don’t suppose any of this bodes well for appealing my sanity. And yet there’s almost something safe, consistent maybe, in the knowledge that my unpredictability is a predictable occurrence in my life.

But don’t worry, the irony is not lost on me either.

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Weekly photo challenge: Inside

I was fascinated by an old tree stump during an ever rarer walk lately.

In isolation, the ancient cracking tree stump was a gorgeous combination of textures.

But on closer inspection, tiny, colourful, succulent plants were emerging inside the troughs of the cracks and rings of the aged wood.

 

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Weekly challenge

What in the hail was that?! AKA – WPC: Fleeting Moment

Yes, I have read the remit for the WordPress challenge this week, and I appreciate it’s supposed to be street photography. But my take on that is, if you want it to be street photography, then call the challenge “street photography.”

Today, the sun was shining, when all of a sudden, the sky became dark as a very dense cloud came over. Expecting one of the wierd short-lived deluges that we’ve been getting lately, I just turned on the reading lamp and thought myself thankful for being indoors. But the rapping on the window was harder than rain and I grabbed the camera and went to the back door where I was greeted with a hailstorm!

Granted, they weren’t the massive 2-3 inch hailstones they apparently got further south, but hailstones they were.

The cloudburst was a short-lived affair, a couple of minutes at most …… and then the sun shone again and the ice melted away!

Now you see it ….

Now you don’t!

I’d call that a fleeting moment.

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Happy Mothers’ Day to you all

We had our Mothers’ Day a few weeks ago here in England, but I know that it is celebrated today in various other parts of the world.

I walked in the woods this afternoon, and the ferns are pushing their way up throught the undergrowth. It was quite dark in the deeper part of the woods, and I obviously had my shutter speed set too fast (1/400th sec with ISO 800). However, as it turned out, my attempt at photographing a fern at this speed resulted in a “happy accident” as you’ll see.

No Photoshop needed here – just colour correction resulted in this rather ethereal picture.

So I’ll dedicate it to all the Mums out there … because it’s pretty … and Mums could always appreciate pretty 🙂

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

 

 

Stuff on my Window Sill ….

It is absolutely chucking it down with rain today, my car is knackered, and I am content to stay in the house in my dressing gown and slippers.

So in the absence of any walks through the forest, or around the castle, or over to the reservoir, I busied my photographic mind with pictures of what is on my kitchen window sill. Yes, I know the geraniums should have been planted outside by this time of year – but …. oh well, no excuse.

I realise I’m starting to be recognised as the “Bug Lady,” and I just wanted to remind myself that I do have other interests 🙂

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Bug-a-day #11

Well, I don’t know about your part of the world, wherever you may be, but it’s been piddling down with rain in my neck of the woods all day.  But it did ease off just after dinner this evening, so I took the dog for a quick walk before the light disappeared completely.

I had taken the camera just in case – but there was little to experience, except a lot of soggy, closed flowers, a few very damp toadstools, and a great deal of very slippery mud (as evidenced by the state of my backside when I got home…).

And what’s more, there were no insects or buggy creatures of any type, except for slugs, which I didn’t feel like taking pictures of right now.

So I snapped a few shots of raindrops dripping from the tips of leaves (as you do… ) and a couple of sad looking mushrooms, and headed home.

But – as the saying goes – never say never …. Look what I found shivering next to one of the above mentioned raindrops!

“What is it?”  I hear you say.

“I haven’t a clue,”  say I.  “But it’s a Bug.”

And, therefore, I present you with Bug-a-day number 11.  Tadah!

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Weekly Photo Challenge: Arranged

Well, leave it to me to bend the rules and present a picture that doesn’t quite fit the brief (again!).

I believe the instructions state, “find something in your environment which was arranged by a human hand for others to enjoy!” That’s easier said than done in my world, where chaos and disorganisation reign, and I couldn’t arrange the proverbial p— up in a brewery!

So, once again, I turn to Mother Nature, who has a very cool (pun intended) way of arranging frost on a newly sprouting leaf – if you could just get close enough to see it 🙂

 Weekly Photo Challenge: Arranged

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]