and the Zen of taking photographs :D
I’m always seeking that elusive ethereal light- the photographer’s Grail, among the shifting shadows, and I think monochrome comes very close to capturing this at times! At it’s best each image becomes a vision and therefore the search for it also must be a sacred ritual.
Please visit Leanne Cole’s Blog for all the great visions! Leanne gives us this great weekly challenge and anyone can participate.
Now is the time to unite the soul and the world. Now is the time to see the sunlight dancing as one with the shadows. ~Rumi
The Second Twilight by Deep Forest
blowing in the windlight
bird bath grotto
the shed enchanted
picnic in Sooke
I either took these on the monochrome setting of my Canon rebel t4i or with my Nikon infrared.
Marvelous Monochrome Madness again. Do visit Leanne Cole’s wonderful Blog for all the great submissions!
Here are a few of my travels at home and abroad
the garden gate
Dreaming by the estuary
St. Kevin’s Monastery Gate, Wicklow Ireland
crossing over the Colquitz River
Culloden Battlefield at peace, Inverness shire, Scotland
We are nearing the end my dear readers- only one more installment to go after this and why has it become such a struggle and so, so hard!!? I revised and re-revised these two chapters till my eyes fell out and my brain froze. I hesitated to push the post button. I have to stop. I can think no more. So without further ado here it is in it’s current imperfection awaiting a few future tweaks. And for those who don’t want to read I hope you will enjoy the images.
Griogal Cridhe (Beloved Gregor)
The Arrival at the Spring
The red stag led the way through a grove where light billowed like a veil between the trees. He would go no further. Stopping short of an opening in the thicket he bowed his head in blessing. Before he turned to go, Niamh looked into his knowing eyes and in their mirrored depths she thought she saw Bran retreating into the forest. She stepped through the woodland portal and into a swirling cloud that slowly materialized into a narrow rocky clearing. At the far end was a stony incline and water poured out of a crevice into the pool below. It took a moment for her to realize that she had at long last arrived at her destination! Overwhelmed, she sat down and tightly held the pouch containing her dreams. Letting her thoughts drift with the mists that were moving over the wildflowers and bluebells she was soon lulled into deep slumber.
The day folded itself into the cavern of night. A thousand torches were lit in procession across the sky with the Lady Moon soon following. Out of the shadowy trees Niamh saw two human figures approach carrying torches of their own. One of them looked like the unfamiliar holy man she had met in the woods. The other had flowing white hair, and though his step was heavy, a fierce light blazed in his eyes. She recognized him as the rider she had seen on the path when she met the Morrigan. Neither of the two men seemed aware of her presence and Niamh wondered if she had yet to awaken.
The Ninth Dream
Solemnly the white haired one dropped a glowing object into the spring. It slowly grew dimmer as it sank beneath the starlit surface. He then knelt down and the light in his own eyes dimmed. Tears trickled down his lined cheeks and fell into the pool. She watched him bow his head as the younger man poured water from a pitcher over him. Niamh was aware that this was a sacred ceremony. Was it the baptism of which the unknown priest had spoken – and what terrible price had been demanded for its benediction?
The old man seemed weary and lay down soon afterwards. He closed his eyes and Niamh saw the Morrigan of death alighting nearby as a crow. She felt grief and confusion. Loneliness filled her like the howl of a wolf and the pouch she carried suddenly became full of heavy stones. Was this the woeful end of the journey? She longed to go home but the quest was not complete. Somehow the mysterious rider was bound to her own destiny. He had sacrificed something very precious. It wasn’t just the old ways he had returned to their ancient source, it was the magic that he had forsaken. It was her own vision! She didn’t know how he had come by it but she knew there was something yet to be revealed. She would need to retrieve this last and most powerful dream.
The way to Monochrome Madness!! Do check out Leanne Cole’s wonderful gallery of submissions
Here I played with an older photo I like and had some fun with fairies
“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. Edgar Allan Poe,
don’t be afraid of the dark
I wanted to include a toned version as well as a painterly effect – and inspiration from Ridley Scott’s beautiful film, Legend
How can you be a forest child and not know The Gump?
A fairy’s heart is fierce and free. She knows that
over the hill there is
A field where earth meets heaven
I am going to be taking a few days to deal with some family and other related things. I’ve had to slow down the last while and take a breath!! Back after the weekend!
Happy Easter to all!!
I’m also hoping to finish my Tales of the Tuatha that I have been working on, as my sweet Niamh’s journey comes to a conclusion at the sacred spring. Then, of course I will have to go back and revise and try to pull all the (some disparate) tales together in a more cohesive and comprehensive way. I’ve become so attached to her and Bran and now the mysterious rider!! I don’t want the tale to end but it must in order for another dream to begin.
By star, wind and moonlight
“All the dreams spilled out onto the path and went spinning backward into the soft curve of the morning mist”