A Load Of Teen Spirit

Here we go again.

Oh, hush.

Some folk say that my photo style in distinctive. But I say I just want you to be sure you've found the right blog.  

Alistair loves this kind of thing. It inexplicably made me hungry.

I was at the seaside yesterday. This über-cute pooch was my first photo of the day. I had to photoshop his lead out, mind. Yes, I like to set them free.  

This is a bird. If it was still in colour, I'd remember what sort it is. I DO remember that it's sitting on a lobster pot, mind. I had a photo of a seagull sitting on a wooden post with the sea behind it that I was going to use at this point. But then I realised it wasn't interesting.

Roof tiles. And they could do with a scrub, let's be honest.

Scruffy starlings. One of those two words is unnecessary.

A bluetit (I think) and a sparrow play peek-a-boo. They're probably discussing the inclusion of porridge oats, most of which ended up on the lawn.

I'm told this is a Siskin. That's a new one on me.

A lady blackbird searches for its mate. I saw him about, but he was a shifty bugger, and looked like he'd been drinking.

I'm going to stick my neck out and say this is a great tit? Someone will correct me, I'm sure. Or giggle. He was a handsome little sod - and nicely focused - whatever he was.

A bollard. Ahoy!

Two horse police constables, walking the beat.

If Slash was a horse?

This little beauty wandered over to the car and stuck her nose in through the open window. I thought this was lovely, but she was distressed by my lack of apples and polo mints, and wandered off.

And to finish, this lad. For some reason, this reminds me of Kurt Cobain.

It's probably the hair.

That, and he left a load of teen spirit in the middle of the road. 

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014

Readier Than Me To Return

This entry is dedicated to my wonderful friend Jayne Martin. Without her, this would never have been written, and I'd be a far less happy individual. 

Thank you Jayne =) x

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I am surrounded by flowers. 

The field is wide and crests the edge of the hill. The beautiful linseed blooms are a blue ocean, a long overdue tide. I've waited weeks to come up here, to wallow in its shallows, to watch the bees dance across its surface. 

Beneath me, the Earth goes about its business, oblivious. 

Beside me, my companion snores gently, enjoying the shade.  

And above me, the arms of the wind turbine circle lazily. We lie in the squat shadow of the turbine's tall trunk, the echoes of its blades turning close to our feet; the sun is high and just behind us. 

This is the hottest part of the day, and we timed our walk well. 

Better yet, we came prepared. A flask of cold water, its contents shared between a cup and a bowl, stands empty and capped nearby, readier than me for the return journey. 

My companion stirs besides me. She rolls and rises, stretching her legs and yawning hugely, before nosing and lapping at the last of the water in her bowl. That done, she settles back beside me. Her dark fur will follow me home after I return her to the dog sanctuary at the end of my shift. 

This is my final walk of the day, and I made it a good one. 

Shall we head back, Sweetie? I ask the border collie, fussing her absently. She raises her head and looks at me inquisitively, intelligently. Possibly she's unsure that she heard me correctly? Then she shifts her gaze towards the gyring shadow blades below us. The trio arc slowly, hypnotically. They mark the seconds, but stretch the minutes into downtime. 

Her point is well made. 

You’re right. I guess we're in no hurry.   

She thumps her tail appreciatively for a moment, and settles back to sleep.

I am lulled by the lazy humming of forgetful bees.

And I dream of the sea. 

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014
All photos are copyright © Indigo Roth, 2014