Friday, 19 February 2010

Losing myself

















Direction wasn't an issue.

The day just blasted in and I couldn't get out of the house fast enough once I'd found my sunglasses. The tracks were sticky with black mud that sucked at my boots, that felt like they would suck me down if I stopped slithering for long enough. But there was a hint of gold on the gorse and a few tiny lambs napping on grassy banks. Shadows were writing secret messages along the fence.















Ways I had walked out other times made broken tracks across flooded fields and fell into the tidal rush of the snaking river.

















And from higher ground, as I turned away from the wind rush, the hat and scarf went into my bag for the first time this year.

















I sat on the steps watching the shadows swing round, waiting for the tide to fall away some more so I could be the first to step on the newly swept beach. Out on gritty sand and broken shells, I ventured to take my coat off and just sat there for the rest of the afternoon next to half buried rope.


















And it didn't take long for that wonderful brain unwinding that I've been waiting for, that I can never find indoors, to run away with me. And I was gone. Phew - what a relief!!


23 comments:

Gordon Mason said...

Great photos with the shadows! But I'm not sure if you really want the hieroglyphic message on the steps broadcast to everyone (perhaps you should keep it secret)!

Annie said...

Hi Gordon. Thanks. I just ummed and ahhed about that shot of the steps and I think I get what you meant. It might be an over reaction, but I just removed that shot. So, sorry to everyone else who now hasn't got a clue what we are talking about.

jem said...

Wow, I actually exhaled with you towards the end of this piece. My favourite bit is that detail about sitting next to the half buried rope. It seems so apt, as if you have been half buried indoors. And I love the way the photo looks like strange bright orange seaweed at first glance. And of course you and Gordon's comments about the steps make them all the more intriguing.

NuminosityBeads said...

Now it's really mysterious! Beautiful photo montage. You capture a feeling of a place I've never visited. Thanks for taking me on the walk.

Annie said...

Sorry about the intrigue. Better to have erased what might have become tricky, I think.

Hi Jem. Well, I have been indoors far too much this winter! I thought the rope was a strange seaweed as well when I first saw it from a distance. Maybe that in itself is a symptom of being stuck indoors too much!

Hi Kimberly. Thanks for dropping by and I'm pleased you liked the photos and enjoyed the walk.

Blue Sky Dreaming said...

Your words and photos speak of the 'letting go' to the new day of Spring...the beginning of new fresh light, shadow and play...Happy Day!

Kelly M. said...

As I sit here in my office (below ground level; I do have windows), I read your entry and oh, how wonderful it must have been! What fantastic views -- such scope and breadth -- bravo for you!

Annie said...

Hi Mary Ann. Well, I'm still hopeful that we will come out of the cold soon. These brief spells make such a huge difference. Hope you enjoy some spring-like times soon as well.

Hi Kelly. It's been a while since I could spend some time out of town without being wrapped up in 10 layers and running for cover, so this was a real treat. Pleased you liked the views.

BLACK AND WHITE said...

Great images! I love your header too!

Annie said...

Hi Black and white. Thanks. Pleased you enjoyed them.

layers said...

shadows were writing secret messages along the fence-- love your words and images here-- beautiful

Leslie Avon Miller said...

"Shadows were writing secret messages along the fence."
I swoon at the beauty of your language - words as mark making.

Annie said...

Hi Donna. Thank you very much. Interesting that you and Leslie picked out the same line!

Hi Leslie. That same line caught Donna as well! The fence was certainly having something to say with the marks it was making.

Caio Fernandes said...

hi Annie !
it is really nice to vaha discovered your blog a little bit .
see you !

Annie said...

Caio Fernandez. Thanks for finding it. Pleased you enjoyed your visit.

Emma said...

The shadow line really got to me too, especially when mixed with the image - perfect!

Cynthia said...

OH! tiny lambs, I would so love
to witness those little darlings.
Love "shadows writing messages"

Seth said...

Sweet relief! Glad to go along for the ride in words and pictures with you!

Annie said...

Hi Emma. Strange that your comment came up as a blank on my dashboard the other day, and now it's here!! Thanks.

Hi Cynthia. Yes, they really were brand new. Pleased you liked the shadows line.

Hi Seth. Thanks. Pleased you were able to walk along with me.

Sharmon Davidson said...

Fabulous post, Annie! I love your photos!

Annie said...

Hi Sharmon. Thank you very much. Pleased you liked them.

ArtPropelled said...

... the first to step on the newly swept beach .... gritty sand and broken shells. Now I'm really hankering to be there. The fist 2 photos are fantastic! The barbed wire and wood ... a visual haiku.

Annie said...

Hi Robyn. Well, I'm pleased you could be there when you were reading. Thanks. It was a whole fence of messages - quite stunning.