 | | 28/09/2015 21:22
Sur le blog Rosalind Jana
Orange Silk and Green Hills
At 8.30am this morning I was strolling along the edge of a lake with my dad, our boots slowly soaked through by wet grass. There were spiders-webs on the thistles – each strand perfectly picked out by dew and light. Dad had his camera with him, and kept stopping to catch this bird or that reflection in the water. Looking ahead, everything was soft and slightly blurred by mist. Looking behind, it was all blue sky and bright sun. I scrabbled around by the trees looking for conkers. Those wonderful, prickly green shells have already begun falling. There’s a knack to cracking them open. You have to find a point on...
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