Tag Archives: photography

Ice in the Drink

Yesterday I wrote on my blog that I had written my first short piece for http://www.stayfantastic.com. The above picture is a clue to the topic. This great new site will be addressing a variety of issues affecting those of us in our middle years. It will be live soon so don’t forget to have a look. If any of you middle agers out there have any suggestions for topics you would like us to cover please send me a comment here at writelindy.wordpress or stayfantastic.com.

 

 

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What is life like for the new Middle Agers?

Do you consider yourself in your middle years? Is that how you are perceived by others? I am shortly going to be writing a column for this age group and would be really interested in any feedback you might wish to give me about life as a middle ager. Examples of concerns may be things such as:

Are you able to buy clothes which reflect your style?

What types of holidays appeal to you?

What books do you like to read?

Are you able to join in with local exercise classes, gyms, etc or are they aimed at the wrong age group for you?

How much of an outcast do you feel in some environments? ie, Discos, bars etc

How difficult is it to meet people in middle age and why? Where do you meet new people? How is dating as a middle ager?

The above are just some of the things which have come up in recent conversations with other middle agers. There have been many more. Please let me know what you think, what experiences you have had, etc.

I haven’t been writing on my blog over recent weeks for a number of pitiful reasons. Sometimes life gets in the way of my writing and no matter how hard I try, when I eventually manage to sit down to write my eyelids fall with exhaustion. Now things are settling down once again with family celebrations over, medical matters dealt with and the chores just about finished and by next week I should be back in full writing mode.

Don’t forget to let me know about your middle age experience.

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Crepuscular

The rustling of branches startles me as I pick my way carefully through the undergrowth. I look behind and see the small creature watching me with trepidation. He need not worry. I have no interest in him. My prey is much larger. It won’t be long now. I just need a little patience. These things can’t be rushed. Soon he will appear. As the moon rises from its sleeping place, his crepuscular routine will be his death knell. My food awaits me. I wait, my body poised to leap. He can not escape the hunting skills of this fox.

 

This story is written as part of a photo prompt for 100 word flash fiction from the wonderful Madison Woods. See her blog on wordpress.

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Hiding

Her arms provide shelter, protecting her from our scrutiny. She hides, not revealing her secrets. Is her story one of despair? Perhaps not. There is a shadow of a smile touching her lips. Why smile? A memory of a lover, the irony of discovery, protection of her own counsel? What secrets would she tell if released of her marble form? She inspires my imagination.

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When Are We Too Close?

Sailing in the Antarctic ensures that one is put in touch with the responsibility of the human race towards our natural resources. Since a visit in 2008 I have been very much more aware of the fragility of our Poles. This awareness was heightened by the visit, which I did feel incredibly privileged to make. So my question is “do we stop humans visiting these fragile environments?” Of course, that is ideal however I do think that there is nothing as remote as a cause for which you have no emotional interest. The closeness we felt to the magnificence of Iceberg Alley stays with me to this day and had given me a much stronger sense of my responsibility in protecting the environment.

What are your thoughts on this type of tourism?

 

 

 

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The Writer’s Senses

I am told as a writer to engage all of the senses and relate these to the reader. A more complete image will form in his or her mind. It is difficult sometimes to describe the smell of snow and air that is not tainted by pollution; or to describe silence which fills the entire being with peace; or to find words to paint a picture which is beyond the imagination. Although I am not a poet I do love reading poetry and can imagine how difficult it can be to identify that one perfect word which will fully embrace the thought, the senses and still fit into the pattern comfortably creating harmonious verse.

This photo was taken in the Canadian Rockies, well known for its beautiful landscape. I found it impossible to describe it properly to people after I returned from our trip. We had wonderful photos but they did not convey the sense of wonder or peace or awe I felt. This is my struggle as a writer.

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Natural Colour

Yesterday I was told that I am beautiful because I have a colourful aura. I wonder if my aura resembles the beautiful blue of this peacock’s head. Sadly I don’t have a picture displaying the feathers that these wonderful creatures have on their tails however I think that he is still quite amazing. Or do you think he is beautiful?

An old woman I know hated peacocks and thought that they were vicious ugly creatures. Now this woman wasn’t given to those type of sentiments normally so it was quite a surprise when she came out with her comments. What did she see that I didn’t? The statement “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” was true in this instance.

I went to an art exhibition last night. The seascape paintings were beautiful in my opinion. Why were they better than some of the others of different settings? Was it because I lived on the sea for a while? Or because some of the happiest times of my life have been near the sea? Or were they truly better pieces of art? I don’t know because I am not an expert but I do know what evokes a feeling of appreciation of beauty in me. At least in art I do.

When it comes to people it is a totally different matter. One person may have the same features as her sister however on one they are beautiful and on another they are not. Then again sometimes once the person opens her mouth she can become ugly through what she says or how she says it.  Is a man beautiful? I think so sometimes but often it is an imperfect beauty tainted with the ruggedness that for me creates a handsome man. A wonderful voice with perfect words can create a beautiful man.

So what do you think? What is your idea of beauty?

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