Life Observed

Why is it that every unexpected geographical feature appears courtesy of the devil? Anyway, this is the Devil's Punchbowl, near Hindhead. It is a natural amphitheatre now in the care of the National Trust.  Right down at the bottom of the bowl, far from the madding crowd, I found this timeless scene and formed it from four images stitched together. Here, once upon a time, you could find a broomsquire, apparently. Click on the picture for a larger version..

Signs of Mother Nature stirring from the winter slumber. How does this happen? How can you make lovely little flowers every year from nothing? There is so much about the world that I don't understand. Why do the teapots in motorway services always drip?

This is another one of my disturbed symmetry images. Is it a symmetrical fake? Is it a genuine hedge? Why are twigs so small? What is the meaning of life?

Make your pictures make sense. Decide on the subject, isolate it, and throw in a little bit of context. So. It's a floor tile. But with the out of focus East Window in the background, it suddenly becomes a floor tile in a church. All is explained Edit. Hmm. I suppose there is a reason why this uploaded picture looks so awful. Is that you, Blogger dot com?

There is a window set aside for the twelve men from the village  who died during the Great War. It has a slightly odd look about it, as if the memorial stones have been moved from some other less prominent place.

High pressure is in control this week. That means an end to the incessant rains, and we see sunshine in the afternoons, frost at night and fog in the mornings. After all the cold and damp, this is not such a bad deal. Fog: The Photographer's friend. You can't get pictures like this without fog.

Favourite Poet: Betjeman Favourite Architect: Lutyens Favourite Guitarist: Clapton Favourite Artist: Seago Favourite Colour: Blue Favourite Number: 7 Favourite Holiday: Cyprus Favourite Location: Tea shop, with tea and toasted teacake These dogs and this Land Rover are irrelevant

Ancient and ethnic Midhurst: Random shaped buildings and randomly placed streets. Sheep street divides in two and then rejoins, for no apparent reason. Excellent. Modern architects could learn a lot from medieval market towns, in my not so humble opinion. Take a trip to your nearest unspoilt market town and nod approvingly . Maybe we can start a trend.

A clear sky at dusk is a wonderful sight. It is one of my favourite times of day. It is particularly effective in winter when you see the shape of the tree outlined as a silhouette against the cool colours of the sky. Something else. The fading light caught on shiny paintwork with my new wide angle lens.

Here's an almost abstract image. Note the plain flat colours. Note the contrasting shapes: Round and angular Note the shadows that hint at light coming from the wrong direction... How can this be? This is a small detail from our church hall, illuminated by sunshine falling on a shiny floor. All is explained.

Half past ten at night. Someone has to spend all night on the construction site in case... In case what? Someone steals the holes?

Surely this elaborate and complicated hinge is the product of the town Blacksmith. It supports the church door in Kingsclere in a confident and sturdy manner, but it doesn't have that machine made look. I do wonder if there is some symbolism involved in it's three pronged attack on the woodwork. I'm also impressed by the way the tongue and groove is disposed diagon alley.

Old Midhurst, seen from the windows of the excellent Spread Eagle (1430) What a great place Midhurst is, full of old buildings and with a street plan as mad as a box of frogs. This is how a market town should be, old, unpredictable and inexplicable. It was a rotten borough before the reforms, and the evidence still exists in stone... "The electors were the owners of certain properties, which were marked by "Burgage Stones", one of these stones remains and can be seen in a building next to the public library".  Wikipedia... I do recommend the Spread Eagle. Rambling, unpredictable, and larger on the inside than the outside. We settled there for tea and sandwiches on a cold rainy afternoon. Open fires and a warm welcome..

Lent.  Time to reflect a bit. Oh dear me. All those mistakes I made in my life. All those bad decisions and stupid moments. Have they all faded into the mists of time or do our failings get written in the book of life?  Perhaps we are fated to continue making mistakes to the end of our lives.  Then comes the big apology.