Out of the Corner of my Eye

writing in north norfolk

A bit of spooky whimsy as my response to Sue Vincent – Daily EchoThursday photo prompt – Glimpsed – #writephoto

writephoto

Out of the corner of my eye

Shadows moved

My breath froze

Three figures rose

Beyond the window

Or were they trapped

In ancient glass

Through which spirits

Cannot pass

The foggy forms

Like drifting smoke

Curled and twisted

Until they broke

Outside the window

Empty air

Was there ever

Something there?

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

Glimpsed

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Synapses

method two madness

synapses s

“And then, all at once, my God, the box was full of stars.”
–Helen Macdonald, “H is for Hawk”

Matter or
mind?  Images caught,
returning,
unchecked by
the body that is my brain–
synapses on fire.

Macdonald is talking about seeing her hawk, but that sentence made me think of the brain, and the images I had seen of synapses at work.  You can give me a scientific explanation of how signals traveling those pathways become something I see, or imagine, but it’s still magic to me.  Like birds.  Like stars.

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Prompt image from Sue Vincent.  We’re always filling in the blanks.

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Alicia’s Dead from Shaun Kellett at Clockwork Clouds #WritePhoto

Reblogged from Clockwork Clouds:

 

Alicia had been watching through her winter-frosted window when the dead arose; their shambling shapes emerging from upturned earth.

She’d first caught a glimpse of Uncle Eamonn, who they’d buried three years previous; his face lacking it’s once crimson glow and his stomach now billowing over his waistline in more ways than one.

Continue reading Shaun’s story here.

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Antickus Antockitus…

Stuart France

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‘Now Here Road’…

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‘Skirting the Edge’…

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‘Hidden Purpose’…

*HM15 1351*

‘Camouflage Cliff-Face’…

*HM15 1356*

‘Midden Meaning’…

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‘Unsaddled by Time’…

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Going west – the painted church

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It is difficult for our modern eyes to imagine the colour that would once have been present within our oldest churches. The carved and decorated facades, often covered with statuary, would have been brightly painted. Walls that we are used to seeing in mellow stone and whitewash, touched by the ochre ghosts of medieval paintings, would once have gleamed in the flickering candlelight as the frescos borrowed life from the flames and processed through the shadowed aisles.

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It is in the great cathedrals that we can still get a glimpse of the light and colour that provided such a contrast to the homespun world when dyes were expensive luxuries reserved only for the wealthy. At St Davids, a high, painted lantern still crowns the arches of the Crossing, drawing the eye ever upwards to the heavens.

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Delicate traceries of contrasting stone mark the vaulted ceilings of the chapels, punctuated by highly coloured shields and bosses displaying designs both armorial and symbolic. In the 13th century Lady Chapel at the Easternmost end of the cathedral, I saw a symbol I recognised, the three hares who share their ears.Each hare has two ears…yet only three ears are depicted.

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In Christian terms, it symbolises the Trinity, though it has older and other meanings that include and transcend the artificial barriers that we erect between our various cultures and religions. It is a symbol I frequently wear, reminding me of a much-loved friend whose physical presence is far across the ocean yet who is never far from my heart. Other bosses in the little chapel show the Dragon, the symbol of Wales as well as demonic creatures apparently devouring the unholy or perhaps just those who are tempted…

For more pictures and to read more about St Davids, please visit the original article here.

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Glimpsed – from Morpeth Road #writephoto

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The phone had rung several times that week. Each time it was my uncle wanting to talk to my mother. As brother and sister they had always been close but in recent times they had drifted apart, mum preferring not to talk with her brother who had come off the rails and was now living with a woman she disliked on the edge of town.

Mum refused to speak to him saying she’d call him back. She never did.

So he kept ringing and my dad on the second last time said he didn’t sound so good so maybe you’d better speak to him. She turned away, used to her brother and his manipulative ways.

I liked my uncle, he was a lovable larrikin, a man who had his fair share of life’s traumas. He discovered what happens when you test the law, he found out the hard way what a woman could do to a vulnerable and damaged man. Despite his flaws he was my uncle and I always believed family stood for something. But mum was a stubborn woman and refused to discuss her brother with anyone…

Continue reading at Morpeth Road

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Close #midnighthaiku

Just a dream away Together a world apart Under the same moon

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