Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one. Paul Eldridge (1888-1982)
I confess, that nothing frightens me more than the appearance of mushrooms on the table, especially in a small provincial town. Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)
Memory feeds imagination. Amy Tan
When the sun heats the region above the level of tolerance, locals make a pilgrimage to the safety of Days Bay beach. It is not a new phenomenon, it started a long time ago, this affair between the seaside and the people who find bliss on it, way earlier than the faded sepia photographs on the wall of the local shop that sells pies and soft chocolate ice cream could remember. Like everything else, it began as a necessity, became a habit and finally embedded itself into a fashionable and part of the local culture. The beach, renowned for its capacity to catch the very last of the sun, on this photograph at least, is just moments away before the strong clouds choke what is left of its light. And when sunlight goes, the party is over. Clouds are getting darker and everyone is gone. Only a couple of empty beer bottles, a half finished sand castle and a random chicken bone provide evidence of the merry crowd, now departed. Perfect timing for a daring gang of local seagulls to sift through the content of overloaded rubbish bins. The wind, mellow and warm, and seriously deficient of hats, balls and beach umbrellas to toy with, is degraded to rolling an empty milkshake cup along the gutter. Darkness will disembark quickly and change the mood of the place. And when night comes, it is always a good time to be safe.
The floral universe, at the very moment of the big bang.
We cannot change our past. We can not change the fact that people act in a certain way. We can not change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. Charles R. Swindoll
Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower. Albert Camus (1913-1960)
God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. / / Jacques Deval (1895 – 1972)
As she gracefully moved into the harbour, I gave her a second and a third look. My eyes followed those amazing lines, resting on the most interesting parts. When facing something so elegant and curvaceous, that’s what people do. That is what people like me do. By the way, she is barquentine, which a short trip to an encyclopaedia revealed as “a sailing ship with three to five masts”, not a vessel with a bar and canteen, my initial thought. On this image, she is inspecting her appearance before leaving the port for the last time. When you are so gorgeous, a bit of vanity is not a crime.
… But you have to search for, and hope for them.
775 Cell Phones
montage
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