Sun Reflection

James sat on the edge of the bridge; very unbusiness like, with his jacket on the railing, his tie loosened, his briefcase tumbled in the grass somewhere.

Watching the sunset hightlight the building bought too much pleasure to bother with convention.

His building. His design. His vision.

Watching The World

From up here puppy can see the world.

Not my best pose

But then as long as I'm close to my people, I don't care.

Colours

Why write words to this.

I can't compete.

Bridge

Rat's eye view

His first connection with Dooke sent Joshuah crashing to the ground. Standing in the middle of the barren training ground but seeing the grass and clover from underneath shut down his brain and his legs.

The other novice mages laughed, pointed, called him names. But as he stood again, slowly coping with two visions, he recognised the difference in the faces of the others between a real connection and a pretence.

Only one other novice wore the look of connection. They smiled at each other and bore the brunt of the abuse.

later that night Joshuah found himself taken by the black mages to another part of the monastery. His only other companion was Dooke, the other novice and his rat.

End of Day

Joshuah loved the end of the day, when the heat of the day seeped away, when the noises of the day started to lessen, when the demands on his attentions gave way to prayer and meditation.

What he did miss was being able to watch the twin suns set, with his oen eyesight.

I'm Bigger Now

Remember the old photo of Puppy sleeping in the box.

This her now.

Subtle beauty

Dance

My puppy dances. Not to music but to cheese.

Storm

The flash blinded her, sent whiteness into her brain, blinding her thoughts and fears. In that blankness the crackle and rumble rolled, tumbled; filled her. It churned within her mind, trembled in her chest as she lay on the damp grass. Lasting, filling, emptying everything but the storm.

And she smiled.

Sleepy Puppy

I'm cheating today. I hunted out the old little digital for a reason today and found there were some photos on it. This is Puppy taken Dec 2007. Puppy was 4 1/2 months old.

She would not fit in this box now.

silence

Loved Hat

Gramps had given it to him. This old felt hat. It wasn't anything special to Gramps, just a hat he kept in the boot of his car, just in case.

But to Mikey it became special.

It smelt of Gramps; of sea breezes and oily cars.

When the black ribbon came loose, Mikey wasn't worried. But he cried the day the hat blew off his head and the ribbon took to the skies. He wouldn't let his mother replace it though. No ribbon was good enough.

When the rim tore after the dog stole it, Mikey wouldn't talk to his beloved pet for a whole week. The dog never took the hat again. Mikey found the stapler and made the repairs himself.

He kept wearing it.

His father asked him what will he do when it finally becomes unwearable. Mikey considered this. He will just ask Gramps to make him another one. And if Gramps can't do it. He;ll ask God.

Reflections

Memory Ochid

I have this orchid.

Years ago Mum and Dad moved into a house. An orchid was attached to one of the trees. Orchid stems are pretty ugly, all of thier beauty is in the delicate flowers. Mum and Dad lived in that house for seven years. During that time this orchid never flowered. Every time Dad got into the garden he threatened to strip this thing from the trunk and chuck it.

One year, it flowered. Dad pointed it out to Mum (I was visiting that day) and apologised for his prior threats for it was truely a beautiful flower. Mum accepted his apology gracefully and carried on doing the housework. Only when Dad left on some errand, did Mum's composure disintergrate.

Laughing so much she was crying Mum took me to look at the flower. It was fake. A cloth replica that Mum had bought. We laughed together.

It took five days before Dad noticed that the flower was fake. He laughed then too.

Such was Mum's sense of humor, such was my parent's relationship.

When Mum and Dad moved house again Mum took this orchid with her. It never flowered at her new house either.

Until.

Mum died 3 years after being diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. She was 10 days off her 70th birthday. Definately too young, too active, too alive to be struck down by the disease. Her death was a devastating relief.

Less than two weeks later the orchid flowered.

Funnily enough its flowers are the replica of the silk one Mum had bought all those years ago.

When Dad sold his house he allowed me to take any plant out of the garden. I took quite a few. But none so memory ridden as this orchid.

It has flowered every year since Mum's death.

Unnoticed

The native plants around here are brightly coloured, enticing to the equally bright birds. amonst the grey-green to bottle green foliage, against the briliant blue skies, the red, crimson, golden, orange, and pink flowers capture your eye.

But if you ever look down, if you ever watch where you step, amidst the dry leaves underfoot, the snapping twigs, the slithers of flat grasses, you might just notice some flowers just a beautiful. Just not as gaudy.

Enclosed

She squatted amongst the discards twigs and the crackle dry leaves, staring at the fallen tree. It had been healthy last time she passed this way; bent, crooked but healthy. And that was what, one moon ago? The growth that half wrapped around the now dead trunk had to be the cause. She remembered looking at it back then; a thin green growth sucked to the tree, barely a hand's width and no higher that she could reach. She remembered touching it, feeling the warmth, the haste within. She had meant to ask about it at the sharman's gathering, but events had a way of driving unimportant questions away.

It didn't seem unimportant now.

She remembered Tilka, his hurried limp as he struggled to run with the men, as he fought his fate to be a hunter. Remembered the agony of his fall, of feeling the broken bones. Of hoping he would walk again, knowing that if he did that leg would never be normal. She remembered that he was no longer regarded a man, no longer a child. Tilka was an unseen.

She stared at the growth that enclosed the trunk of the tree, that had grown straight and tall, forcing the tree to straighten. The sun fell behind the mountain, the moon rose and still she started.

Spider cluster

Her hands were damp, she wiped them on her jeans. She chewed her bottom lip, sucking alomst all of it into her mouth. thought the day was warm, she felt the cool breeze reach her skin. She shivered.

She tried to call out, but her voice died. Her breath moved the leaves. The tiny spiders scattered; tiny, tiny feet gripped the webs and ran, each to it's own strand. So small, so tiny, so evil.

She fainted. crumpled to the stoned pathway.

The spiders froze. The one dropped, spun a faint line and dropped to the ground. It hit the stones and ran to the body, dragging it's line behind it. Then another dropped, and third.

Soon all two hundred of them were climbing the body, strong silk glued to her skin.

The cluster above them felt the movement, heard the excitement. One spider dropped to investigate. Then another.

Meal Time

The rosellas enjoy my gravilleas. Every morning they squawk and squeal amongst the branches.

My Kitty remains on the ground, totally frustrated at thier teasting.

AttackCat / Sook Cat

This is my Kitty. Unpredictable at best.

Her attack was due to sitting under my trees watching birds just out of reach.

Her sooking is asking forgiveness.

Morning Dew

The morning dew on a Callistemon (bottle brush) flower. Actualy flowers.

Bad Girl

'What?'

'I'm not allowed up here?'

'Since when?'

Neglect

I was told by my grandmother that citrus thrived on neglect. This one certainly has.

Swan

' As graceful as a swan' just doesn't cover it. Not in real life.

Sunset

Jesse walked every evening and every evening stopped to watch the sunset over the lake.

As the sun set she let the hassels of the day follow.

If only real life was that easy.

Spider

It rained over the past two days.

This spider obviously lost its web. I came across it soon after it had finished the new one. the web was almost perfect.

Sleepy

My puppy is a purebreed staffy, retained by her breeder as she was the only female in the litter, sold at four months old as she was considered not big boned enough. She spent those four months in a cage, in the garage of the breeder's house. In cages next to her were her father, uncle and female cousin. Every morning they would have time out in the yard to play, every afternoon they had some training and play time.

She now lives with us. A pet. A spoiled pet, who lives in the house, sleeps on our beds, has free access to our back yard (secure of course). She has two teenage boys to play with. She goes to training, which is more like playtime and meet other dogs and people than training.

I don't think she is too upset.

Pollen

He'd taken to the river, sure that it would aid in his escape. No scent to follow, no tracks.

He hadn't know about the pollen that coated the water's surface. Deep still waters, he only just kept his chin above the suface, dusted with the fallen flowers of the unnamed trees that lined the river banks. Every breath filled his lungs with the sweet pollen, every breath choked his throat, filled his nostrils. Sneezes threatened.

What was worse was the trail he left behind, the empty waters, the absence of flowers that he left in his wake.

He could only hope the trees would release more before the hunters came upon his trail.

Tiles

Cheating. Since my Hubby had the camera at work and I couldn't take my own photos, I've stolen a couple of his.