For a change, we’ve gone black and white this week:
My photo is of a water droplet on a twig during the rain on Easter Saturday. I’ve turned it into black and white, but there was very little colour in the original anyway, being mainly greys and blacks with the water droplet seeming to hold all the light.
I took the photo while walking the dogs around Lake Claremont in the midst of the showers the other day. It was our first rain for a long while, and very welcome after our scorching summer. I felt quite snug in my raincoat with the rain pattering against the hood, while all around the water droplets on the leaves seemed to capture the light, so it looked as if the trees had been strung up with fairy lights.
Then there was the smell—I want to bottle the scent of rain on parched earth, along with that of freshly ground coffee, freshly mown grass, and freshly sharpened Staedtler pencils. Imagine if we could, and all we had to do was take the lid off and inhale it whenever we needed a pick-me-up …
Monique’s photo is a different take on her empty seed pod from a couple of weeks ago:
This picture reminds her of an empty husk, a shell with nothing living in it. At different times in her life she’s operated on autopilot, going through the moves, but feeling little joy, and at the moment, she’s relating to the emotionally drained feeling. She also knows there’s a long way to go before she’s empty.
This picture was over exposed, so she changed it to black and white. On an aesthetic level, this photo has a draw for her, and she suspects it comes from her own feeling of being over exposed and wanting a little time to herself for the colour to return.