Probably along the quayside awaiting a repaint due to scaring all the fish!
This delightful fishing boat was in the harbour of Broadford Bay in the Isle of Skye.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Vivid.”
Seaweed Marooned on Textures of Pebble Beach
Whilst a sandy beach is a delight in its own way, my preference is for a pebble beach. But not just any pebble beach. It has to be one with just the right size of pebbles.
Too big and the noise of the moving sea is too deep and inwardly stirring.
Too small, the noise created is too high pitched and grates on the nerves.
But with a nice mix of medium-sized pebbles and the sound is like a symphony.
Relaxing me. Calming me. Soothing me. I can feel the shoulders lowering and my breath slowing just thinking about it.
As I sit in wonder at the soothing sounds, I am always drawn to the colours and shapes of the pebbles, the endless variety of textures and the varied temperature of the different kinds of rock.
For me this is a paradise on earth.
Today’s contribution to Tuesdays of Texture (de monte y mar).
Broken – Rusty Old Gate
I love broken things. I think I missed my vocation in life, I should have set up a junk yard. I can see potential uses for most things and always enjoyed the challenge of repairing something.
This old rusty gate has seen better days. It gave up the ghost of its past life a number of years ago but has been given another role – of keeping the sheep out!
I love the contrast of the rusty metal against the old stone wall with the patches of lichens to brighten it up, all set in a sea of green.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Broken.”
Forces of Nature – The Wild Wind
Just sharing my passion for the wind today and a quick snapshot of the effects of the wind whipping up the dead grasses, flinging them against the wire fencing. Where they catch the wire they wave frantically, a real joy to watch. Ah the simple things in life.
With a constant wind speed of F7 to F8 which is between 32-46 mile per hour (51-75 km/h) and gusts coming thick and fast as strong as F9, it really is not too bad out there. I can just about make out the sea in the greyness. If it wasn’t for the white horses galloping across its turbulent surface, I wouldn’t know the sea was even out there. Still it is a much nicer wind than in the winter months, then it comes in with such ferocity and an almost violent edge, you can feel the damage that could occur as it hits hard anything in its path. It comes with a bite too, a sharp maddening bite that reaches to your core.
Today though, it is powerful, in a gentler way. Softly pushing you over, almost playfully, rather than just flattening you. The Spring winds. There is a softened, almost rounded edge to it too and a tinge of warmth, a hint that the winter may actually be over with for this year.
I love the wind, Spring Summer Autumn Winter, no matter what the season. Each has its own personality, a general behavioural pattern, even though each time it revisits it has a slightly different edge on its return.
You won’t catch me out though. I can read you loud and clear and I still love you no matter how you show up.