WEEKLY PHOTO

CHALLENGE: BRIDGE

… that’s enough of the small talk; let’s into it~!

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Queens Park. In the distance a perfectly innocent tourist is quite unaware that she has been flipped over and inverted—and not even on the bridge yet. (Weeeell … I was in a reflective mood. Sue me …)

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A cool and frosty morning. Stir well, and repeat dose for a week or so. Then you get this (above). Frozen waves? Sounds like a contradiction in terms …  (Right after scoring this shot the ol’ dog lost his footing and dam’ nigh ended up head low and tail high in this wee ditch. Brrrr …)

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AGAIN IN QUEENS

PARK. A few years ago this enigmatic epigram appeared scrawled over the footpaths, sidewalks, and pavementations of old Invercargill. After a hiatus of many months (oodles of ’em) I happened across this isolated sample close by the band rotunda, on a morning a lot colder than this shot might seem. It seems odd for a scrawler to come out of hibernation in mid-winter, but that’s Southland for you …

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This is the bridge to eternity of the guy mentioned on the wee notice above. Early days of WW2, he was a ‘sprog officer’ piloting a tiger moth over Gore when something went horribly wrong and he tried to land in the main street … (I don’t see how they could turn a joystick into a control panel, but again, that’s Southland for you).

AS FOR HIS

bridge to eternity it was more or less in the centre of this next shot—

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—in that street twixt the left hand chair and that dark window in the brick  building (cafe). In flames, pilot and craft crossed the bridge to eternity together—

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—and here’s the newspaper image of the time. A bit morbid for the Challenge? Possibly not—

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring

 The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:

 The Bird of Time has but a little way

 To fly–and lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

.

—with any apologies due to Khayyam and Fitzgerald for bridging Eternity for us. Bridges, you see, can be metaphoric as well as physical. Brrrr.

 

dodo

 

 

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9 thoughts on “WEEKLY PHOTO

    1. He deserved better, much better. I know nothing more about the event than posted on the notices in that shop window—a Tiger is a sweet aircraft but very responsive. I’d suggest possibly engine failure too low to glide clear. I like to think that his instructors had to ‘please explain’ in depth; what was he doing so low over town? Tragic …

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