Category Archives: Photography

The Garden (Part 1)

The Garden (Part 1)

I grew up in a rural village with a large garden and I have fond memories of exploring it day in day out: Climbing the trees through all seasons, picking red currents, scything nettles, mowing our soccer pitch, chasing sheep, or having campfires; there was so much to do, to find, to enjoy.

But somehow, all these wonderful memories were stuffed away neatly and labeled as ‘being a kid’. It turns out, it’s not only about being a kid, it’s also about having a garden. No matter the age, there is so much to discover: I can lie for hours at the pond observing all of the different frogs (if only they would be less shy), I love raspberries and there are too many to snack all of them, and the starlings behave like our pets. And: It’s quiet.

After living in a city for more than ten years, it’s surprisingly easy to forget what you’re missing out on – but I am just about to rediscover everything. And I am not sure if going back to a city is an option afterwards.

Dry Grasses

Dry Grasses

A tempting shimmer,
often bright and sometimes dimmer,
tiny twinkles, shiny flickers,
mighty seas of jolly glimmer,
gently waving in the wind,
often aligned, yet intertwined,
thin blades on fire,
in shades refined,
ensnare the mind,
tether the eyes,
mankind inclined
to stay right here, 
witness the rustling, bustling weeds,
small beads pinned by the sun,
a moment passes, all is gone.

Photo Post: Perhaps

Photo Post: Perhaps

Perhaps I am lagging behind a little with my all my photographs from the long summer; some photo posts are incoming. Perhaps I am also happy to have so many photographs so that I can keep on writing posts even if I don’t produce new ones. And, perhaps, I need a new format to publish my photographs after all.

Greenhouses

Greenhouses

A little island in the south,
well-known by many, word of mouth
does travel far.
And bizarre houses
out of glass
are stuffed with greens,
do grace the place
– in midst the lake –
en masse.

Sierra de Grazalema

Sierra de Grazalema

The hills around the Simancón mountain are rocky. Nonetheless, they seem to be teeming with life. The air is still chilly and the sun has barely risen above the horizon, casting long shadows onto the plains in the far west below. However, the clear sky already signals that temperatures will soon increase dramatically. We pass a lonely toad sitting in the middle of the narrow trail – it looks so wise it might just have the answer to any tough question we could come up with. Delicate flowers crane their necks in curiosity, marbled whites flutter between light and shadow, and a Black Redstart points us the way to the top. At lower altitudes groups of trees spent shade, but higher up the sun shines relentlessly and life seems to be withdrawn from the landscape more and more. Only a few chamois trudge along the ridges as if they are looking forward to an afterlife. The Sierra de Grazalema, a place I will gladly revisit.

Whitewash

Whitewash

When lights are out
night sounds appear
and overlay the gloss
of days, thoughts cross,
until a warbler, without fear,
sings out his doubt aloud.

House Martin

House Martin

Who doesn’t love swallows? They are as fast as the wind, always chatty, and super cute. The Common House Martin we have here in Europe is only one of four species within the genus of Delichon, whereas the other three species are distributed around Africa and Asia. They love pastures and farmland, especially near water, and build their distinctive nest out of mud and clay beneath overhanging rock formations or buildings.

We had the pleasure to be surrounded by hundreds of them while standing on the dam of Embalse de los Bermejales. They were zipping all around us, seemingly not concerned with or interested in anything else than the delight of their flight. And for a moment, it felt like we were among them – a moment I will gladly remember for years to come.

Photo Post: Planet

Photo Post: Planet

Whirling through the empty space,
to chase the dream to leave a trace,
we lose the reference at times
of what's important, how to pace
our lives, to live for us, not for archives.