The sky is blasted with dragonish clouds that blacken an ancient wind-blustered landscape long ago weathered into ridge and furrow, dissolving the veil between human and nature, between yesterday and tomorrow. Murmurations of thunderheads gather, unearthly shapes shifting across the gorge where the sun god tempers day in his fiery forge; an alchemist, he chants […]
Tag: #writephoto
Monochrome Magic
The past lingers in black and white, not painted with fingers but conjured with light. Fairy-tale turrets once decked with streaming pennants transformed by time into a wreck; now they have only sheep as tenants. But conjured with light, not painted with fingers, in black and white the past lingers. Kim M. Russell, 26th May […]
Valley
The valley’s wet with soupy mist pouring down its flanks; the river’s murky with muddy flood gushing down its banks. The morning sun has shed its blood and set the clouds alight; the hill’s a blackened silhouette where daytime meets with night. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday Photo […]
Carved
An old track forges its way, draws seams through fields pierced and riddled with flint. Winding and following the contours of the valley, it hurdles the backbone of a hilly landscape, past a wind-carved rock of elephantine grey, a hollowed out echo of an ancient voice from long ago. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response […]
The Silvering
The undulating spines of misty hills crouch sharp and black below billowing clouds that pitch and roll. We walk along the lakeside track, a jagged, treadled seam, pierced and riddled with the gleam of ancient cobbles, flints and stones, skiddy with old leaves and stale lake breath. Along the path, the oaks feign death but, […]
Dusk
The vestigial tail of day disappears into clouds, a sky of dead dreams wrought in gold- spattered water of seas and lakes: that’s all it takes. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt – Dusk #writephoto
Perspective in Yellow
Fields throbbing with electric yellow unfold to the foot of an ancient hill quizzically curved like Buddha’s eyebrow. The air zings with peppery pollen as rapeseed, with its Midas touch, starts to paint the landscape golden, and country people everywhere know that spring is finally here. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s […]
