Category Archives: Writing

Writing for fun and money

Before the Festival

There will be plenty of photos of the Bedford River Festival, so I thought I would post a few photos before the estimated three hundred thousand visitors descended.

Though some arrived early

and some were practicing

whilst others stayed on guard

and enjoyed a snooze………….

and the youngsters had a good look around

Come back later to see after the River Festival

 

 

Advertisements

A Riverside Stroll

It’s been so hot lately that I have tended just to sit beside the riverside at lunchtime.  However I never miss a chance to add to my collection of photos.

It’s Sunday

And apparently I have been on WordPress for 9 years, yes NINE years.
In this time I have done many things, and some are on my still to do list……. ( I don’t call it a bucket list) I like to do things at my own pace.  Sometimes it’s slower than others.  I like to march to the beat of my own drum so to speak. ( or stroll)

I like to take the time to look around me.  First this morning I drew back the curtain onto my garden to see next doors cat, oblivious to every thing around him just rolling about in the sun bleached grass, enjoying the early morning sunshine, which for an eighteen year old cat is pretty good going.

After a few minutes he decided to act his age and have a snooze

Over the wall

I like to take photos from slightly different viewpoints.

I also like to photograph a particular feature of a building inside

and out

and sometimes the traditional shot

even if the trees get in the way.

 

Saturdays

Have become the Sunday for me in as much as lately I have exchanged my Sunday morning walks for Saturdays.

It is always good to change things around.

You can still find the ‘quiet’

If you take the time to look……

 

It should be Sunday

Only it’s Bank Holiday Monday. The only sounds heard are the wood pigeons calling out to each other.  The roar of a car engine momentarily shatters the peace. The car speeds by, the occupant apologetic.  It feels like a Sunday even though the refuse truck has been and gone. No Bank Holiday for them.  It feels quintessentially British. A throw back to the television shows from the sixties that I would watch endlessly as I grew up. Any minute now John Steed and Emma Peel would appear, roll opening credits……

It feels earlier than it is, the sun is still hiding behind low cloud, perhaps hiding in a game of hide and seek that only its playing.

There is a stillness in the air, it still feels like it should be Sunday…..

An Early Morning Mist

The dawn chorus has not started except for a few pigeons,  a solitary robin and the crows.  The shadow of a cat guard sitting on guard upon the garden wall.  In the distance? comes the muffled sound of a door opening and closing. The ears on the cat prick up and he turns his head to the direction of the sound.  He stands up, stretches as only cats can on a 6 foot high wall and with a quick lick and promise, he returns to his guard duty.

The mist is slow to clear, its warm and muggy, the sun struggles to break through. The neighbourhood cats walk on by, house to house, over walls and garden fences.  Every now and then one will stop, distracted by a bird, an opening window or perhaps the sound of their humans preparing food.  Its Saturday, the day of no real routine. Cats like routine…..