WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE: ON TOP

.

GENUINE BLACK SWAN EVENT

.

BUT FIRST

a little backgrounder, totally irrelevant. Cast a look at this wee snap (which is also ‘on top’—of a long stalk, this time). Our bumblebees love it and one was rabbiting about in the jungle, but by the time I got back with the camera he’d gone. So I shot the scene—an artichoke, late in life and just a bit senile.

R T ChokeWThen when strolling through town the other day I experienced a genuine ‘Black Swan’ event. Well, not a real genuine one—I cheated.

Proper BSEs are unexpected but having been there before I knew where it was … right on top of an ancient*  building. But as it was a real ‘on top’ and as it was a sort of real ‘black swan’ I took the shot anyway—

Screen Shot 2014-04-24 at 19.45.53—a wee bit of whimsy on the part of men long dead, and long may it last. Either that or they couldn’t spell duck. One never knows.

NOW

I’d gotten this post half written when some trouble developed and I lost the thread. For whatever reason I was going to post a Byron poem (Ron who? I dunno either, but he’s good) so if you stroll down to the end you’ll find it anyway.

AND NOW AGAIN

I love the fact that water is all wet and flowy. Despite which it can be heaped into little piles. Sadly though, if you try to stack those piles you have a problem. Water, it seems, has a mind of its own and if it don’t wanna be stacked you ain’t gonna stack it. So there.

Anyway, here’s a shot I took whilst stalking bees; of some water balls sociably gathered on a leaf—

Screen Shot 2014-04-24 at 19.47.39—I have no idea what blobs talk about but they seemed happy enough. And after the wrap-up you’ll find your poem. Hope you like it …

NO MORE A-ROVING

So, we’ll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.
— Byron

.

CARPE DIEM

* New Zealand. ‘Ancient’ begins last century, and extends backwards from there.

 

 

 

 

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