A source of great strength
A true friend who never betrays
The sleep that nourishes wisdom
More powerful than proving a point
It is golden
A sanctuary for the soul or
An ultimate weapon of power
Whether embraced or imposed
May your silence be filled with bird song and laughter
By this, if a weapon, may it lose its power.
Hidden among limbs clothed
In green velvet gowns
Dripping in accoutrements
Of fernage, of fungi
A trickle gapens wide
To underground flow hastily
Growing in karst caves
Miles long - race to river shores
Ancient faces, bearded features
Embedded in sapling lined hill
Look up to pinnacle source
Drink liquor distilled by leaves
Minutiae of life abounds
Hiding from hurried eyes
Passing giant foot too blind
- by black shapes bound to hand and wrist -
To see them thrive
Once the orchid eye is in
Become a clumsy giant
Clambering in, too easily
Destroying tender offspring
Sprinkling pathogens from soles
Wiping out whole colonies
After a solitary visit
Gaping mouthed outsider capturing souls in images
Thinking of this and parallels
The heart propagates compassion
It dangles on new vine
White heart berry ripening in time
Junee Caves Walk, Maydena Tasmania
The moral of the story The moral of the story is not to stop going out and enjoying photographing the world. That would be rather boring and also kind of pot calling kettle. What we all need to do is to challenge ourselves a bit more. During a workshop into ethical orchid photography at the […]
Photographing Nature | Nicely
Together algae and fungi
Make something new
I hope to grow on you
Count the stars of heaven 