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
Nothing's been happening around these parts...nothing of any interest.
I always seem to do more
washing,
shopping,
cleaning
and cooking when it's school holiday time.
However;
everything goes back to 'normal' tomorrow.
Hurrah! I do love the ferals, but a little absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Come morning it's pack them up and ship them out.
all photos © L.M.Noonan 2009
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5 comments:
well I wanted to stop by and say hi, enjoy your photos and see how you are doing :)
These have been a great set of photos - I am really quite jealous of and amazed at what you have seen and experienced overseas. How is preparation for your next show coming along?
Hi, JafaBrit!
Hiay David, lovely to bump into you around the blogosphere :)
I have a voyeuristic pleasure looking at all the photos. I get a sense of a place at least, even if I miss out on actually being there.
I love the photos, such color.
Great photos!
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