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  • Weekly Photo Challenge: Landscape

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    For the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Landscape

    Photographed by ©JaniceTSalmon2016  medicinalmeadows.com

  • The Sea of Sunset by Emily Dickinson

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    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

    This is the land the sunset washes,
    These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
    Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
    These are the western mystery!

    Night after night her purple traffic
    Strews the landing with opal bales;
    Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
    Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.

    Poem by Emily Dickinson No.13 The Sea of Sunset

    Photograph my own ©JaniceTSalmon2014

    This weeks WordPress Photo Challenge:

    “Share a photograph inspired by a favorite poem, verse, story, or song lyric. Bonus points if you share why the particular text resonates with you. (Though you certainly don’t have to!) If you’re not feeling especially literary or musical this week, see if you can capture the beauty of morning or evening half-light in your corner of the globe”.

    You know I love Emily Dickinson poetry, so who better. The photo was taken in my town at the channel on a glorious evening in Spring 2014.

  • WordPress Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots – Nightmare Nightclub

    Nightmare….stranded. This is just great. The surge of anger at herself fuzzed the situation and the previous few hour’s alcohol wasn’t helping. She still had her house key so the only thing bothering her now was getting from A to B. There was only one thing for it just start walking. It was 1am. The nightclub had started emptying and she couldn’t see any of her friends even now as the lights started to flicker on for chucking out.

    Outside was a chaotic gathering of party goers and taxis, she had to leave. She walked in the direction of her clumsy compass. She got to the end of the road and recognised some buildings, great right turn. She was consoled by the well-lit direct route ahead. She looked up for a moment, this is familiar, then fear hit her feet. This was the area of the city where she had worked in a medical centre as a student, the red light district with all the stories she had been told during her placement. Including this renowned location as one of the most dangerous streets in the country. Over the road out of the corner of her eye were a huddle of figures, she dared not turn her head, she walk faster. She now hoped to God she was invisible. She saw the medical centre in the distance that meant the end of the road. Now just a short walk up hill through the well-known street gang area. Great. She hadn’t thought this through, but what other choice did she have.

    Footsteps now pattered behind her, louder, thundering. She turned sharply, stumbling due to the pace her feet had been panicking. Approaching was the man she had spoken to for part of the night at the bar. Nice bloke, no cheesy wanker but a boy from the same small town background, finding himself in an edgy club that seemed too much like a movie set and borderline illegal.

    “I shouted you, but hell you can walk. I saw you leave and thought what is she doing? Mad cow.”

    “I lost my purse in there” she explained.

    “Pocketed I bet. I was gonna offer you a lift in our taxi then you strutted off.”

    “Can we walk?”

    As they walked, they talked and realised they were both talking ten to the dozen. Adrenaline no doubt. They seemed to have reached to her front door without realising how far they had come.

    “I’m here”

    They stopped. Silent for a time, just breathing. The alcohol fueled confidence had dispersed and they hesitated as to what to do next.

    “That must have been one of the craziest things I’ve ever done” he said.

    “What you? You’re in the Army! In the Gulf! Walking home is crazy?”

    “We’re well kitted out”

    They laughed.

    Hell he wasn’t wrong. That must have been one of the most dangerous,  idiotic things, to risk your life getting home from a nightclub. Another awkward moment, then they were distracted by a bus passing at the top of the street. Night buses that stopped round the corner at the hospital gates, he pointed and ran in that direction waving as he went. No number, no call me, nothing exchanged. She half expected a knock at the door some weeks later and they would have laughed at the crazy girl that walks so fast her feet don’t touch the floor!

    Years later she tells this story to a friend. The friend asks,”was he in white, no name given, and vanished faster than you blink?” She looks puzzled. The friend explains that she believes we are sent earth angels in dangerous times to keep us safe. You know, the guy was dressed completely in white.

    (For the WP Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots)

  • For the sun will rise higher

    conistonclouds
    the day is long
    and yet the sun
    shines for a short time
    as winter is not yet done
     
    the sun rises but
    not so high as to
    reach the garden chair
    or flower beds for glory
     
    power of the shine
    is for only a spell
    as I am reminded
    of days that will come
     
    a brief glimpse
    of golden rays
    spark of brighter days and
    hope as spring will surely come

  • Snowdrops – Winter’s Delicate Flower

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    Snowdrops are a delightful sight in February. They give a bright feel to mossy grounds which sparks a little joy on a grey day. These flowers are known to have approximately 20 variations of species and can grow up to 30cm tall. The botanical name is Galanthus, gala in Greek means “milk” and anthos, meaning “flower”(Wikipedia.org).

    Although they are cultivated far and wide it is thought that they are native to eastern Europe. It is believed that many soldiers of the Crimean War brought small bundles of these bulbs back to Britain, but were first documented in Botanical text in the 16th century (www.nhm.ac.uk). Today they are cherished and there are dedicated Snowdrop Gardens open throughout the UK.

    The snowdrops delicate nature has attracted the attention of many poets. Emily Dickinson, the garden lover, often uses metaphors to describe elements of nature. In the poem “I taste a liquor never brewed” she is giving praise to her garden, “drunk” on the intoxication of scent, beauty and botanical skills in cultivation. She uses metaphor to convey feelings, in my opinion, of her joy in the garden. I love the last stanza as she refers to the “seraphs” (a variety of snowdrop) as they “swing their snowy hats”.

    I taste a liquor never brewed –
    From Tankards scooped in Pearl –
    Not all the Vats upon the Rhinesnowdrops3
    Yield such an Alcohol!
     
    Inebriate of air – am I –
    And Debauchee of Dew –
    Reeling – thro’ endless summer days –
    From inns of Molten Blue –
     
    When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee
    Out of the Foxglove’s door –
    When Butterflies – renounce their “drams” –
    I shall but drink the more!
     
    Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats –
    And Saints – to windows run –
    To see the little Tippler
    Leaning against the – Sun!

    By Emily Dickinson.
     
    William Wordsworth also thought of these little white flowers as angelic. In his poem “On seeing a tuft of snowdrops in a storm”, he uses words such as “faithful and immortal”.

    snowdrops2When haughty expectations prostrate lie,
    And grandeur crouches like a guilty thing,
    Oft shall the lowly weak, till nature bring
    Mature release, in fair society
    Survive, and Fortune’s utmost anger try;
    Like these frail snow-drops that together cling,
    And nod their helmets smitten by the wing
    Of many a furious whirlblast sweeping by.
    Observe the faithful flowers! if small to great
    May lead the thoughts, thus struggling used to stand
    The Emathian phalanx, nobly obstinate;
    And so the bright immortal Theban band,
    Whom onset, fiercely urged at Jove’s  command,
    Might overwhelm, but could not separate!
    By William Wordsworth.
     

    Dailypost – Winter’s Delicate Flower

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/

    http://www.nhm.ac.uk/natureplus/blogs/wildlife-garden/2014/01/27/snowdrop-history?fromGateway=true

    https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galanthus

    Photographs by Medicinalmeadows.com

     

  • An Impression of an Iris

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    WordPress Photo Challenge: Artists are inspired by and capture the world around us: sculptors immortalize people with statues; painters record events in their masterpieces. What about the other way around? For this week’s theme, find inspiration in a piece of art, and go further: imitate it.

    I took this photograph yesterday, a lucky discovering in a public walled garden as one of my favourite paintings is Van Gogh’s Irises.

     

  • It’s Still Early….

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    It’s still early and the light
    from the dimming sun
    is fading out of sight.

    Clouds cast their net but
    a stream of yellow beams
    seeps to illuminate time.

    A whisp of cold with a
    crisp caress chills as the
    sun sinks behind the hills.

    Darkness will pull up
    the moon and born is a
    velvet sky adorning the stars.

    For the WPC: Time

     

     

     

     

  • Winter Light

    In the grip of winter

    Only a sip of light

    Can come into sight

    The sky may fall

     Consoled from a cloud

    Land adorns a shroud

    A mournful breeze

     Heard to sanctify

    Then whispers a sigh

     

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