We’re half way though the month, so let’s see if you’re all still paying attention.
These are all household objects, taken from a fresh perspective.
Have a go at guessing what they are.
Answers tomorrow – no prizes, not even a booby prize.
We’re half way though the month, so let’s see if you’re all still paying attention.
These are all household objects, taken from a fresh perspective.
Have a go at guessing what they are.
Answers tomorrow – no prizes, not even a booby prize.
Back in a Previous Life, a viewing platform on the South Bank in London had me exploring the sights on the other side of the Thames. I liked this juxtaposition of old and new, chaste stonework and bright colour. It might not be glazed, but it’s a window through which to get a new perspective on the more usual views of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
I normally eye up cows somewhat warily when out on country walks. This lot seem to be keeping out of my way. This perspective is just how I prefer it.
It’s that time of the month when I re-visit a blog post written during our years in France. I’ve chosen this one because of the perspective it offers on rural life there, a hundred or more years ago. Because France – certainly where we were in the foothills of the Pyrenees – had no Industrial Revolution, country life continued more or less unchanged for many until villages devastatingly lost their menfolk during the First World War.
Country life is country life, and some of these occupations would seem familiar to our own grandparents. Others less so. Have a look and see.
July 26th 2012
Today we visited Benac, one of those small and almost picture-postcard-pretty villages outside Foix. I think it’s unlikely that too many horny-handed sons and daughters of toil live there these days. Too many freshly painted facades and cheery boxes of geraniums at the windows. Too many sleek and highly-polished cars.
But once upon a time it was a busy working community. For the last few years, every summer the villagers here and in nearby hamlets arrange carefully constructed and dressed figures into appropriate corners of both village and countryside. These figures celebrate the way of life that persisted here – and throughout France – for centuries, and only died out some time after the First World War. They call the route you follow to hunt out all these scenes Le Cami des Encantats: Occitan for something like ‘the Enchanted Path’. Come with me and take a look. Click on any image for a closer look and a caption.
I’ve shown this image before, but it’s a textbook demonstration of perspective – everything here leads your eye to the cathedral in Cádiz – so let’s give it another outing – squared up of course – for Day Ten of Square Perspectives.
Were we really only there in January? It feels like another life, a different world. And look at that clear, warm light! Ah well …
‘Now what is she doing, silly woman, using that blurry photo of Castle Howard? Couldn’t she find something better? ‘
It’s not that blurry actually. Try it from another perspective.
Summer.
Fields of wheat and barley stretch endlessly beneath the bluest of skies.

And in late summer, harvest.

It’s the season for seascapes.

For exploring the beach.

And for wonder, as one small person changes her ideas, moment by moment, about a day on the sands.

It’s the season for outdoor theatre. Here’s the end of an evening in the Dales. The unmissable Handlebards – all four of them – have just finished performing Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, with Wensleydale as their backdrop. This summer – no show.

There’s entertainment in town too. Impromptu sessions on the Regent’s Canal in London.

Followed by a walk through an urban garden at Coal Drops Yard…

…and, back at home, fields of poppies.

Summer, in its simplicity.
I often pass this window on my walk. It’s in a farmyard outbuilding, and the detritus on the other side of the panes never changes. Neither do the spiders’ webs. They neither grow nor disappear. Time for a spring clean and change of perspective?
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