A mixture of illustrations, photos, thoughts and things which make me happy :)
(All content posted is my own, unless otherwise stated.)
(All content posted is my own, unless otherwise stated.)
I wouldn’t advise reading White is for Witching right before bed, especially if you happen to live in a creepy, creaking Victorian house. ~ Funtimes
Tea on Flickr.
There are some things that tea can’t fix… :/
Autumn Leaves on Flickr.
Anglesey Abbey, Lode.
Cityscape on Flickr.
Snowfall,
in March,
This film was quite interesting as a whole. I was using it throughout March, and it really highlights the tempermental weather we’ve been having latey. Earlier photos were full of spring sunshine and later ones of snow.
Autumn Leaves on Flickr.
Autumn Leaves
Anglesey Abbey, Lode.
Tea cups on Flickr.
Tea Cups
Kettle’s Yard House, Cambridge (2012)
Arches on Flickr.
Seville, Spain (2012)
The first photo that I’ve both developed and printed myself.
Mountain Sunset on Flickr.
Black Forest, Germany (2012)
Sunlit woods on Flickr.
The Black Forest, Germany (2012)
This is the first colour photo that I’ve printed myself. It was a lovely surprise when the colours came out looking really intense and vibrant, as I remember being really disappointed with the pale and washed out tones of the Boots print .
Sunset on Flickr.
This was a beautiful ending to a really idyllic spring day.
Taken on the way back from the Orchard Tearooms where I’d had tea, and scones as big as rocks!
Elevenses on Flickr.
Early morning sunlight on Flickr.
Armchair Travel
The house is silent and feels deserted (apart from a playful jumping spider, which I spooted bouncing across my shower bottles). My room is freezing and bathed in cold winter sunlight. It is tempting to pull the curtains closed, the light is blinding. Crosses of light are reflected onto the doors and windows of the houses opposite. My house is reflected in the upper windows. I open a window, cold air drifts in. It is very reminiscent of cold summer mornings. I close my eyes, staring into the sun. The rich yellow light feels warm. A siren is blaring. I can almost imagine it as the soft song of an early morning grasshopper. Birds tweet in a loud chorus. I drift effortlessly into a high Swiss mountain meadow. THe sun is just passing over the tips of the snow tipped peaks. THe grass is wet, my feet bare. I feel apprehensive about the silkily glinting spiderwebs which are woven into strands of dew-soaked grass. They are beautiful, but I cannot suppress a twinge of fear at the thought of the spiders lurking within them. A cold breeze tickles my skin. It does not yet feel like the lovely hot day it will become. It is endlessly peaceful. There is not a soul in sight, nor will there be for much of the day. The meadow is high up enough to deter the casual tourist. These flowers will not be carelessly trampled by frolicking children or festooned with crisp wrappers and orange peel. The shadowed loneliness of the meadow is beautiful, I could stand here, soaking it in forever. Instead, I lie down in the wet grass (worries about lurking spiders forgotten). Dew soaks through my thin summer dress. I snuggle into my warm cardigan, basking in the sunlight that creeps across me as the sun rises higher and higher into the sky. I am warm and impossibly content, it promises to be a wonderful day. The sun moves on. The golden glow fades from my closed eyes. Slowly I return to the grey city street and to the start of another wintry day. (Gently, I set the jumping spider down outside my window, it is a day to be outdoors.)
A piece I wrote for my writing for images module, very early in the morning.
(I took the photo just before writing “Armchair Travel” and together they give me a wonderfully vivid memory of that early morning which turned into such a beautiful day.)
I had rather a lovely birthday. It began with a nice healthy, fruity breakfast with orange juice and lots of cards, before travelling to Ludlow. We discovered a tiny gallery with some irresistible glass pieces, where my sister and I spent a happy while deliberating (I’m not sure everyone else was quite so happy). We had lunch in a cafe next to the castle, I had smoked salmon sandwiches, and managed to steal a wee bit of my sister’s soup too! It was really nice having my grandparents there too, as we don’t get to see them all that often.
I spent the afternoon exploring Ludlow castle with my dad and sister. There were lots of winding staircases and plenty of intriguing places to investigate, we even found two nesting pigeons lurking within the walls. We also found a mysterious doorway with a staircase leading up into the dark. It was interesting how creepy and looming a dark blocked up staircase can feel, despite knowing that we were a few feet away from bright spring sunshine. I half expected some awful creature to jump out from behind my sister (thankfully nothing did). Descending back into the sun, we explored some rather precarious staircases, where I nearly jumped out at a small child, thinking he was my sister! We ended the visit with a cafe, where I had spiced apple cake and tea (my favourite). Driving back there were beautiful, snowy views of both the Black Mountains and Brecon Beacons, we weren’t able to stop for photos, but it was wonderful just to look. The white shiny peaks really looked majestic!
All in all, it’s been a great way to start off my twenty first year! I’m hoping for a year of healthy eating, hard work and plenty of baking.
Fingers crossed (:
(As always, my precious Olympus came too, so I’ll hopefully have some nice photos in a few weeks.)
I had forgotten how beautiful the sunsets are here. My dad drove us up to a gap between two hills and we climbed the higher one. We got there just in time to see the sky gradually shift from a deep blue to a really intense red. The white peaks of the Brecon Beacons, green fields and the lake below all looked stunning against the sky. It was one of those evenings that really makes you appreciate the absolutely amazing beauty of where you live. I’m really glad I took the film camera, because at some point; as the film starts running low, you just have to sit back and enjoy the view.
Today I visited a lake near me, tempted out into the cold by rare cloudless skies and deceivingly warm sunshine. The lake was framed by shining white mountains, with a cold breeze blowing and lit with warm sunlight which reflected off the surface of the water like balls of stardust. It was a wonderfully peaceful, beautiful scene. I always think that winter and early spring are the best times to visit the lake. There are few tourists and the view is unspoiled by the heat haze present in later seasons.
I took my Olympus film camera with me. It is a refreshing feeling to carry a film, rather than a digital camera. There is a certain freedom. I enjoy the limited amount of photos. It forces me to consider them carefully, rather than snapping away endless photos (as I tempted to do when I have a digital camera in hand).
Eventually I put the camera away and just enjoyed the moment. I sat on a jetty which reaches out quite far onto the lake. It was easy to imagine that I wasn’t on land at all, The jetty swayed slightly with the wind, and the gently lapping waves bumped against my feet. On one side of the jetty, waves rose and fell with a gently energy. The waves were slightly shadowed and slightly bluer than the still sunny waters on the other side. There was an uninterrupted view of the mountains, yet I couldn’t stare for long, the sun reflecting off the snowy peaks was blinding. Instead I watched the swans. They were quiet and peaceful, sleeping and diving on the still side of the jetty.
Eventually, I realised that my shoes were wet, dipped slightly too far into the lake. It seemed a signal to leave, the wind had become colder with inactivity. I walked away, looking behind all the while. It was a beautiful, peaceful way to while away a sunny winter afternoon. Particularly, as I’d spent the morning watching and yearning to be outside. This evening I’ll hopefully be walking up a nearby hill with my dad. The views should be lovely, especially if we catch the sunset.
