'A' is for ...An Awfully Aggrandised Autumnal Afternoon Adumbration of me! The only time I have long legs ... sigh :)
It was leading up to Eldest leaving for uni and I went into 'mother-overdrive' mode and made him practise cooking, ensuring he had many 'how-to-keep-yourself-fed-and-live-to-tell-the-tale' lessons. Three weeks in and he is still alive having not succumbed to food poisoning. One of the first things he chose to learn to cook were Potato Rostis. They proved to be rather successful and appear to have been cooked a number of times and shared with friends - sigh of relief from his 'trying not to be a helicopter-mum'!
I'd wondered why the name 'Hosta' had been given seeing it was a wild and moorlandy field on a small Scottish island. Any self respecting garden hosta I knew would not be able to survive the local conditions, until I realised it was an anglicised corruption of the word Traigh Stir (pronouced something like traystir) then it made sense that to 'Sassenach' ears it would sound vaguely similar to 'Hosta'.
Black and white
One evening walk, when the light was low and the colours muted, the sun softly shone between the clouds making the seed heads glow I loved the contrast of their pale diaphanous forms against the rock of the walls. However in the colour image they looked insipid. When I took it in B/W it suddenly changed. The flimsy twigs came to the fore and became delicate yet striking architectual forms.
On Wednesday we spent a day in York and as we are not often found in a city, or a town for that matter, it always fascinates me what goes on 'up there'. Craning my neck as we walked through the winding streets provided many strange and intriguing decorations or plaques from hundreds of years ago. I was spoilt for choice. I did eventually plump for the most craniest of necks photos - a shot of the York Minster. I nearly fell over backwards for this one! It does look like a fairisle knitted yoke jumper at this angle. Or is that just me ...?
'T' is for ...
Hidden in the undergrowth, on the grounds of Malham Tarn Estate, a series of orienteering tags.
This one caught my eye last week when I walked down from the walled garden with wildaboutworld one lunch time. It would be silly to miss this opportunity :) snap - job done.
Last weekend, while Youngest was at his weekend job, Himself, Eldest, dog 'n I went for a walk around a local reservoir. I took my usual plethora of photos, but none stuck a chord. Until I saw this one. Two of my three men, the dog, sky, water, hills all bathed in marbled sunshine. An image, a view worth treasuring.
As we exit our back door, we can see in the far distance these two sentinels. High on the sky line, last week I noticed how striking they appeared against the autumnal skyscape.
In my mind, I'd already chosen an image for 'swing'. However, when searching for it, I rediscovered this little group of happy pictures. It took me back instantly to that day, when the boys were little, Giddy Dog was still young and well, still giddy. We'd stumbled across a homemade tree-swing and spent a happy half hour as the boys flew around squealing with delight or demanding to be pushed ever higher. A gentle reminder of a lovely day.
My own choice
We have a Stag's Horn Sumach tree in a large pot at our back door. Every autumn it gives us a blazing display of colour as the leaves change before falling and entertaining the cats who 'hunt and kill them'. This year was no different. However, this time, I noticed the leaf variation from summer green to autumn red were all still on the tree, so I collected one from each shade, laid them in as best a gradient I could and took a picture. Now, ten or so days later, the tree is only clothed in faded golds, the green shades all forgotten.
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