Dinesh's photos

The Harvest Moon night the weather in the northlands unpredictable ~ Basho

"One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious." ~ C.G.Jung

If you stand and listen You will hear the voice. Reeds sharp as rapiers rasp the wind. Frost creaks in the trees. Sunlight, ice-bright, falls from the sky. Scattered cedars and junipers loom like shadows. Sheathed in ice, a willow droops heavily Across the path. Driven snow packs the creviced bark of cottonwoods. Once-hidden bird nests now plainly marked By white cap of snow. Out on the marsh, blue water shows through shifting ice Tall brown reeds, slim as dancers, bend in the breeze. A hundred thousand cattails, each one lit By low angled light of westering sun, Each brown seed head blazing Like the head of a saint. “The Marsh in Winter” ~ Timothy Walsh

By Fred Morgan

Its the name of the city! en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Llanfairpwllgwyngyll Camera: NIKON CORPORATION NIKON Exposure: 0.005 sec. (1/200) Aperture: f/7.1 Focal Length: 32.0 mm (35 mm equivalent: 48.0 mm) Flash: Off, Did not fire

The clock is one of only three in existence worldwide Made by Romilly, Paris.

French - about 1670

By James Holland www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/ladylever/

The clock is one of only three in existence worldwide Made by Romilly, Paris.

Men at forty Learn to close softly The doors to rooms they will not be Coming back to. At rest on a stair landing, They feel it moving Beneath them now like the deck of a ship, Though the swell is gentle. And deep in mirrors They rediscover The face of the boy as he practises tying His father's tie there in secret And the face of the father, Still warm with the mystery of lather. They are more fathers than sons themselves now. Something is filling them, something That is like the twilight sound Of the crickets, immense, Filling the woods at the foot of the slope Behind their mortgaged houses. "Men at Forty" - Donald Justice