Writing Life
Well, this is it for my September beaches. I hope you enjoyed the photos and that they managed to impart some of the tranquillity and relaxation I’ve experienced during these walks.
Have a nice autumn, everyone! Don’t forget to be understanding. Stay safe!
It’s finally here… autumn! Balmy September days, empty beaches just right for a delightful walk… we, locals, have taken back the seaside. In fact, if I didn’t live here, this would most likely be the time I’d take a few days to relax by the sea. In most cases, September weather is still great beach weather, I was reminded the other day. Sure, there still are some tourists who clearly share my opinion, but somehow, they always seem less disturbing than the summer crowd – less intrusive, less demanding, less entitled…. And generally less, as in not so many of them.
Right… my point is, September beaches are wonderful. Perhaps not always spectacular, not always as life imbued as they are in the summer, but endlessly relaxing and accommodating. So I’d like to share some images of these September beaches with you over the following days. Many of them are taken with my phone during the one impromptu walk when I didn’t have my camera. Spectacular or not, I want to share these soothing moments with you, hoping to bring you a moment of peace. Enjoy!
Spring 2020, a time of fear, death and lockdown, was also a time of understanding the value of something as simple as freedom of movement. Perched on my windowsill, I photographed birds, trees and flowers, wishing I could be out there, walk in a park or on a beach, go for a hike, the way I had done countless times before. Once I learned what it felt like to no longer have it, I promised myself to no longer take that sort of pleasure for granted in the future.
Spring 2022 is also a time of fear, death and freedom appreciation, albeit of a different kind. It’s shaking us to the core, yet again making us question our values and actions. Or at least so it should… although we, humans, seem to have repeatedly failed to learn our lesson.
Once again, it’s time for coping mechanisms to kick in. I don’t know about you, but I refuse to ignore or deny the harsh reality; at the same time, I’m also trying to keep that small promise I made myself back in 2020, because I do need to find something uplifting to just keep me going, and not going crazy.
In an attempt to put a smile on your faces and mine, hoping to bring you some joy, I’m going to share some images I’ve captured while trying to escape my own thoughts this spring. Nature’s beauty and innocence can still provide such a soothing refuge… I hope you enjoy them.
Stay safe, everyone! And instead to endeavouring to return to a kind of “normal” which is exactly the root of our problems, maybe we could learn from our past mistakes.
A week used to feel like “forever”, “forever” ago… As a child or teenager, having to be away from my friends for a week or so seemed like a terribly long separation, the end of which was nowhere in sight. A week apart from an adolescent love felt like cruel and unusual punishment, something that might very well be the end of the world. On the other hand, a one week vacation or trip with my friends and/or boyfriend was heaven, the kind of thing that could keep me going for months before and after.
A week could radically and irreparably alter one’s existence and anyone saying it was nothing, it would go by in an instant, was a fool. I was sure of it.
Now… a week is nothing. It goes by in an instant. I can put up with many uncomfortable situations for a week – that’s just life. I can go by without seeing someone I love for much longer than a week. In fact, after doing long distance for a few years and getting used to it, a week apart can be a much needed break (shhh, don’t tell anyone I said that). And when it comes to time off, a week flies by unnoticed and even if it’s better than nothing, it’s far from enough.
Then… the world becomes what it is today… pandemic… war nearby… and a week suddenly becomes very relevant again. Of course a person’s life can turn upside down in an instant, not to mention a week, but at this point it’s once more painfully clear what a difference a week makes.
I was so pleased to see this old tree about to bloom a couple of weeks ago. There was something uplifting about it. Spring and nature had once again provided a reprieve from the maddening everyday life.
A week and a windstorm later, the sight was less uplifting. The blossom was gorgeous. And the tree was dead.
Several obvious analogies came to mind while photographing the old tree one last time, generally about how deceiving and unreliable appearances can be. “Rotten to the core” kept popping into my mind, probably because of the week’s events and personal experiences.
Now, however, going through these photos… all I can think is, what a difference a week makes…
Have a good weekend, everybody, as good as it can be under the circumstances… Make the best of it! Who knows what windstorm is lurking around the corner…
(Winter is making a comeback… 🙂 )
With the end of autumn just around the corner, I’ll also be ending my fall series now. I hope you had a good, healthy season… or at least a tolerable one. Thank you for sharing your autumn images and thoughts, as well as for showing interest in mine. Continue reading “Fall Shades #20”
I’m not sure what the story of these giant thistles (or whatever they’re called) is, but I didn’t expect to find them there. It’s not the first autumn I visit that area, but I’ve never encountered them before. While not particularly friendly in their prickly ways, they were certainly impressive, adding a wild, rugged note to the scenery. Taller than the car, taller than me, these things made for good guardians and nobody else seemed to venture close to the woods that day. Much as I tried, my photos didn’t quite manage to properly capture their size – they looked far more impressive and interesting in real life.
Ana Linden 
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