At the bridge of the failed painter, I stoop and check the sagging timbers before placing one foot, then the other, on this sorry decrepitude. It cracks and pops like a first fleet ship, but the sounds are not ominous; more the rattled wheezing of an invalid friend. I proceed with care,sucking the thumb pricked on its splintery balustrade. Ahead, lies the gate and welltrod path and, branching like spider veins, the merest hints of tracks―overgrown, leading to a wilderness filled with possibilities. I stand and consider. Buttoning my duffel coat—a veteran of the moth wars, I step off the path, and into the weeds.
©L.M.Noonan
all photographs © L.M.Noonan 2009
It's been damp and rather dreary. The ferals have the flu and the methylcobalamin is amongst other things causing me to have vivid dreams. Last night I dreamt of India. These are just a few memories of Pushkar.
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5 comments:
Tonight I will dream of India. Is that graffiti on the walls; or the signage to the room inside?
I hope they are nice vivid dreams? The photos are wonderful, I particularly like the two middle one's :) they got my imagination going.
The two top shots go together perfectly.
wow, those photo's are so cool!
I’ve never been as broke as I am now, never yet, I don’t remember being happier. Thanks for the photos; they are brilliant. They remind me of traveling; all the things I’ve been so blessed to experience which endlessly create the small joys a situation. It truly encompasses the meaning of 'living in the moment'.
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