(Click to enlarge)
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Barbara Lambert
Allyson Latta
Elizabeth Yeoman
(Click to enlarge)
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Barbara Lambert
Allyson Latta
Elizabeth Yeoman
that is actually quite effective :-)
Have a tanfastic week and thanks for sauntering by ;-)
Accidentally so. The best kind in my books…
Happytastic week to you too!
Golly I’m not sure how you captured those rays of sunlight. What a lovely porch. Can I drop by for breakfast? Very evocative shot. i love the cobblestones, the blue-painted chair, the blue cloth…. Summer!!! (Adieu to it till next year.)
Didn’t capture those rays… they ‘appeared’. Magical late summery stuff in the air! Not my porch else I’d say yes to you dropping by. Hell… come on by anyway. We’ll go early before the owners are up. (: I’ll bring the brioche and eggs.
Lovely shot! It is inviting for a light Summer meal or tea and a chat :) Happy WW and thank you for your comment on my post :)
Tea would be grand… cake too.
So pretty! It would be an appealing shot even without the shafts of sunlight — the blue of the furniture, the brown of structure, the red of the hanging flowers,the backdrop of green, and the sense that we’re peeking into a place where there has been family intimacy. But there’s also a hint of abandonment — or am I wrong about thaf? Anyway, the lighting really makes it. How did you achieve that, and were you aware of it when you took the shot? Is it a reflection? I’d love to be invited in for tea if there’s anyone home. (Just curious — what’s that hanging on the back of the chair?)
No idea what’s on the back of the chair but agree that it does look abandoned… bits of ‘something’ on the table. M&Ms? Leaves? It’s not my place (if it were, it would well-used… instead of scattered leaves there would be piles of paper-ish items!). I came upon it while touring galleries in Scugog on the weekend. This is the home of Frances Tinkl and her husband, the brilliantly ‘ecclectic’ sculptor. If you’ve done the tour you’ll know that their property is filled with gigantic cement figures, something going on in every nook and cranny, including in one field, a line of larger-than-life soldiers with rifles, marching double file — so long a line you can’t see one end from the other as you walk through the middle of them. I could go on for paragraphs describing the place. The short story is this: it’s wild! Anyway, amongst all that, I found this quiet corner. I thought it begged for a simple meal and some conversation, a glass of wine, a few well-placed sighs for summer’s almost-end…
The shafts of light were a surprise. Probably something to do with end-of-summer fairies that can’t be seen with the naked eye… (:
Ah, so perhaps I was right that it hadn’t been used for some time. Yes, in part it was the leaves on the table, but also no knickknacks or personal decor anywhere about. I haven’t been to the Tinkl home but it sounds like a fascinating place to visit. I’ve made a note of it.
Anyway, the photo is lovely and a touch melancholy — perfect for summer’s end.
And yet there’s a bright red blooming basket of geraniums that someone must water… so perhaps not entirely forgotten…
And just figured out what the ‘leaves’ on the table are… geranium blossoms.
Fascinating about the sculptures! Those gigantic cement figures! Again, such an evocative shot.
I’ll post some photos. It’s incredible. He’s been working on these things for 48 years and he has no idea why…
Looks like a great place to write!
It does! I love the combination of openness and privacy. Have a great week!
Carin, I read somewhere that photography is about chasing the light … but you not only caught it you’ve made it stand still and smile for the camera! Great shot.
Thank you. I love the light here too, but I assure you it came to ‘me’… I didn’t chase it or catch it. At least not intentionally. I tend to take snaps of things that simply catch my eye — only to find out later why… I’m in awe of those who know how to work with light. I’m too busy being distracted by moths. Or facsimile of. (: