Rachel J Bowler's photos

And here are the trees and I know their gnarled surface, water and I feel its taste. These scents of grass, and stars at night, certain evenings when the heart relaxes - how shall I negate this world whose power and strength I feel? Albert Camus

Floating on the weight Of hope, Winter flattens The echoes of morning. At the juncture I imagine finding you, Sometimes picturing you In the distance that Conceals Any chance Of finding you Once more.

Barely venturing out Into the winter sun, Into the grey skies Of past dreams. In poverty, the Landscape sits empty. Serenity stirs For a moment Preparing to drift Back into sleep.

When will the disregarded blossom return? When will the sun dazzle new? When will the sky fill with power blue?

Past the bandstand, To the bird house And bowls players, My mother sits On a sunny day. Everything is Pink, white and yellow. I watch from my pram. Later She tells me To be careful As I swing as High as I can. By the time you Join me on the path The dusk has settled, Evening has already Fallen, And we take solace In the fairground Until the night Begins.

Sunlight weaves its silver. Transient in desolate brevity. Leaving as soon as it arrives. Always unseeing. I open my eyes And wander in the dark.

Between time And finality Another day arrives. Some come from Where I seek to go Others from Whence I came. Symmetry has Become a myth That truth cannot Dispel.

When you walked Through my dreams I never knew you. The stranger behind My father. Passing by Without a glance. The sunset walker Crossing over.

Now only glimpsed. A myth. A lamentation. A disappearing Sanctuary. The fog recedes. Fleeing from Its own reflection. The destination Never reached.

Your ghost has not yet arrived. The past stands still. I wander the streets In endless searching For what is gone But still alive. What I learned from the rain Is of no use now. I travel through this empty day. And dusk is here.

2024 didn't disappoint for sheer awfulness. The worst event of the year was losing my lovely dad. He was 96, and he is profoundly missed. Born in 1928, he was one of eleven children and was a non-identical twin. He would often share stories about his childhood with me, including of his time as an evacuee in Oxfordshire during World War II. In 1946, when he was eighteen, he was sent to Germany to complete his National Service. He travelled around Germany in the immediate aftermath of WWII as part of a vehicle maintenance team, repairing army trucks in workshops and on the road, although he never followed this line of work as a career path when he returned home. When in Germany, he saw the destruction war can cause first hand. He married my mum in 1951, and stayed married to her until she passed away in 2016. In the 1970s he witnessed tensions between the unions and managers at work, and the rise of Mrs T. He lived to see the birth of the computer age and the internet. When my dad was born, the horse and cart was still being used as a mode of transport, and when he died, the electric car was making its debut. I sincerely hope that I can keep some of his memories alive. The photo above is of my dad holding me as a baby at home in 1968.

I wait Without cover Whilst the cold sharpens in. Death pulling to the floor. Is it possible to revive The mists of eternity? The frost smothers Einstein white, And gravity pins me To this place. I dare not look up. Hope would crush me.

I met a traveller from Sutton Coldfield, Who said, "A massive artisan bull Stands in New Street Station, And near it, about to cut some tape, A half-sunk visage waits, Whose wrinkled lip and Gary Oldman glasses Look up towards the lifeless thing, With a half-mocking hand, ready to declare, 'My name is Ozzy, man, King of Birmingham Look on my works ye mighty and despair!' All gathered closer to the colossal wreck Whose nose did steam and eyes did glare. 'Sorry I cor stay long', the man did say 'There's a sunbed waiting for me in Tampa Bay!'"

Chemical Brothers I'm not particularly strong on the 'technical' side of photography (I'm more of a point and shoot, then edit using software/an app afterwards kind of amateur photographer). However, creating camera driven rather than post-processing effects is something that the photography club I have recently re-joined is keen on. Therefore, I admit receiving assistance to create this effect. I also edited the photo afterwards!

Aphex Twin A bit of polarisation. I used 2 x hand held magnifying glasses as props.

Show me the beauty of that snowy-scene. This is how I want to remember things. Beneath the lamplight in my street; Bright and alive. Tonight I am wide-eyed Tracing tracks along the road. Let me watch the people stroll, Hand in hand. Hope shines for a moment. And I will dream. This one seems to look a lot better when printed out.

Not tidied from the day before You tools rest in the dust sprinkled light Among shavings That have been hammered through the years. Slithers of work unseen. Things I never quite knew. Nothing fits together. The uneven shapes of pungent metal And wood cracked dry Sprawl around Among the guesses made. And ancient contraptions Of unfathomable use Sit neglected Beside old hanging baskets And watering cans Prematurely dry. Tomorrow you will continue Like before, filing away Behind the sun-darkened door Before stepping out into the glaring light And locking the door firmly shut. Hanging the rusty key Out of reach. But this is a mystery I am determined to solve And I will find a way To polish deeply Until the copper shines bright.

Wrapping myself in A blanket of hope, I turn once more To the shore, And soak in The silence Of years. The rebellion Of sand Beneath my feet Works its Soft inhibition. From now on I'll watch the tide Forever.