Painted #writephoto

Thursday photo prompt

painted

 

He painted on the large canvasses we now see in the Orangery Museum. A quiet man, who took the time to look at the light, the pale greens, the tender colours of the young plants. His garden is a spot for dreaming, thinking back to a time of peace. And then there is the gateway, the little painted bridge, an enigma, a sign, a parabole perhaps?

Where does it lead? Could it lead to you, wherever you are, surely painting, deep in thoughts, wondering. Yes, I see you now, in a secret part of your garden, where even ghosts tread carefully.

Claude Monet by himself

 

Daily Prompt: Landscape

When you gaze out your window — real or figurative — do you see the forest first, or the trees?

František Vobecký- melancholický den (Melancholy Day) 1936 I see the world reflected in your eyes

For what I see you have seen first

A long time before I was born ~

And now the colours are the colours you see

The shapes, the stones, the skies, the flowers

And the trees you have taught me to love

O Mother, Mistress of this world

Mother, lover, Gaia

Our Soul…

Image: František Vobecký- melancholický den (Melancholy Day) 1936

#Geometries: Thaw

Promise The freezing fog lifted an hour ago, as the skies got all at once brighter, surrounding the snow with sharp reflections. The garden is again in colour, emerging from the black and white dyes of the last few days. Small birds have reappeared, magpies perch melancholically on tree tops and high flying gulls cross over the landscape, aiming for the coast.

The roads are clear and the pavements a mess of half frozen slush: walkers sport mountain boots and gripping shoes of various types, one cannot help judging the contempt “we” – the pedestrians – are held by municipalities struggling in the claws of austerity. Small trees get greener as the snow melts away but the grass is still hidden, and with it the snow drops that, one guesses, are awake under the white blanket.

It is too early to celebrate victory over darkness: the evenings are clearer, and would be so later even, without the idiotic change of clock that, light-wise, ruins this short interval to the middle of February. So the bike is still in the garage but spirits are already higher: with Spring approaching, inspiration, we know, will be back with a vengeance.