Winter Solstice

It's been a pretty uninspiring week with little in the way of light.  For some unknown reason, I've been regularly putting pen to paper in recent months; jotting down words, phrases and ideas, even having a notebook and pen by my bedside for those nights when sleep doesn't come easy.  This is something I haven't done since my student days when I would scribble reminders to look at other notes!  

So with the the shortest day approaching and winter making its presence felt, I thought I might share with you some wintry photos and accompanying free verse.

Colours drain from view

Forming ice white sheets below our feet

Expanding and contracting,

Revealing long scars and tall, black shadows

Cast by silent ancient trees; gnarled and twisted

From taking bitter air into ancient lungs

Over and over and over again.

A pregnant pause before the longing starts

For that prickly pleasure

Of sunbeams and saltwater 

Dancing on porcelain skin

For the cacophony of crows and crickets

For the soothsayer's promise of summer's gentle sway

But for now, all is still

We're shuttered and buttoned down

And life exists in unforgiving, short lived light

Still, there are magical moments;

The woolly, deadened sound of footfall on virgin snow

Tanzanite skies

And moondust mornings.

Bracing walks to remind us we're alive, 

Buds breaking through from some dark abyss

As we limp towards the thaw.

Of all our constant companions,

Wintertide harbours secrets,

Delights in mystery;

Only showing its hand when we're firmly in its grip...

Only truly letting go when we learn to slide.

***

Wishing you a wonderful week!  I look forward to hearing your news and thank you for stopping by.

Answers on a postcard

This week has been one of incredible frustration; worrying news, wearisome weather and website woes. The latter has been pretty dominant and has often meant that by the time we were ready to face the outside world, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. 

Storm Barra, the latest to hit our shores, wreaked havoc in some areas. In the Wild West Midlands however, we were forecast light winds. The battering gusts of wind throughout the night told us otherwise. By morning, the street had clearly acted as a wind tunnel in a domino rally game and most of the bins had been upended. 

At one point, we could barely open the door, such was the force of nature's anger. By midday, the forecast had upgraded our area's weather to "moderate wind." Nice to know. That said, other areas certainly experienced greater disruption and damage. 

So, turning away from mercurial weather, I will take you back to last weekend and a rather soggy walk along the River Severn to the Georgian market town of Bewdley. The mud demanded red wellies of course. I've blogged about Bewdley before and as pretty as it is, this time we decided to grab a cone of chips for an alfresco lunch (we know how to live) and I persuaded Gareth to share one with the seagulls so that I could get some photos of birds in flight - a subject that fascinates me. They didn't disappoint. 

The seagulls in Bewdley are as numerous as those by the coast, but they don't take steroids, have muscles where they shouldn't or give you the stink eye, so I felt happy to have a Tippi Hedren moment and luckily avoided being decorated by the greedy gulls in the process. I just love the beautiful shapes they create with their wings in flight, shapes we don't often get to see with the naked eye... 

 ...but frozen by a fast shutter speed, they are exquisite. 

Instead of heading into town, we carried on along the river in the direction of Arley. Unfortunately, the combination of heavy rain and walkers had made the paths unpassable in places so we took a random left through a gate leading into a field and ultimately back on the road into Bewdley. 

The field flanking the river is one we have walked past countless times, but clearly at such an early stage in the walk, we would never have elected to return to town on foot along the road, so this path was unchartered territory to us. Little did we know that the copse at the far end of the field, just before the road, contained an abandoned church and, as we later discovered according to Google Maps, a spooky graveyard. 

The scene greeting us on this murky December day was eerie to say the least; ivy covered sunken graves...

...and the shell of an old church.

There was an unsettling atmosphere, startling in its immediacy; a feeling that we were somewhere we shouldn't be and a sense that this is a place of happenings. 

I started to shoot with my camera and very quickly spotted a figure at the far end of the graveyard.  She appeared to be clawing at the ground, but upon the realisation that she was not alone, hastily gathered herself to leave, temporarily appearing to hide behind a tree, before making a rapid escape via another path leading into the adjoining field. Very weird. 

This experience certainly set the tone. At the time of photographing, neither of us had any idea of the site's existence, but we've since done our homework. 

Dowles Church was consecrated in 1789, although the actual site dates back to 1170 and was the site of another religious structure. 

There used to be a small ferry service, enabling worshippers from the other side of the river to visit the church, but this eventually was discontinued and the Church finally closed its doors to parishioners in 1956. 

The graveyard is said to be occupied by one Susan Wowen, believed to be a witch and linked to tales of satanic worship. Local tales exist of her growing horns periodically before shedding them again. She is said to be buried beneath an old yew tree.

There is also a mortsafe in the graveyard. To my dismay, I have no photographic evidence of this. I only learned of its existence later. Trust me, if I'd known beforehand, I would not have left that churchyard until I had discovered it. Mortsafes are a rarity in the UK and their cage-like structures were erected either to keep the body snatchers at bay, or to prevent the deceased from escaping, depending upon your viewpoint. 

Bidding goodbye to Bewdley, in between showers, we have had some incredible cloudscapes in the last 7 days. A late afternoon walk over Highgate Common gave me a stiff neck from staring up at the sky.

Don't the trees bare branches look beautiful silhouetted against the sky? 

In other news, my postcards finally arrived. 

I'm pleased to say that these have been produced using sustainable processes and materials - I found a wonderful printing company based in the South West to assist me. I'll give you a brief insight into each photograph. 

1. Sunflower 

This fading beauty was photographed at the National Trust property Coughton Court in Shakespeare's County of Warwickshire in late summer of 2019. I captured its wilting loveliness and added my own "gold dust" texture (created from brass shavings) to show off its magic. 

2. Deepark 

This enchanting sight was a feast for the eyes after the first lockdown in 2020. The silhouetted creatures were captured on our first family day out after the trauma of Covid, in the summer of 2020, on a blistering hot day at Attingham Park, Shropshire. 

3. Balloons 

This was a digital art experiment; a composite image fusing together a photo of model balloons taken in a Bristol museum with an image of a girl disappearing in a Worcester alleyway. 

4. Ladybird 

Earlier this year, the ladybirds were out in force in the garden and seemed particularly attracted to my bright yellow garden table. I captured this one in a macro shot, making its way to the end of a leaf stalk. The yellow table can be just glimpsed in the background, but made for an arty background. 

5. Forgotten Cinema 

A few years ago a local manor house (Wordsley Manor) came on the market. The manor was a source of fascination for me. I could just see a glimpse it through my old bedroom window and grew up hearing tales of its interior decadence and even more impressive, its very own Art Deco cinema! With a group of friends, we attended an open viewing of the property and I took along my camera. It no doubt looks very different now, but this was the cinema in all its faded glory captured on that day. 

6. The Posada 

This legendary Wolverhampton drinking establishment needs little introduction. It oozes character and many relationships and memories have been forged within its walls. I have a limited run of 50 sets available. If anyone is interested, then you can find further details here. https://www.facebook.com/WinterPeachPhotography

Until next time!  Stay safe.

The Red Shoes

Following on from last week's Balls to Black Friday blog, I thought I would share an outfit photo.  We've had a great deal of inclement weather in the last 7 days, so I've been reorganising my wardrobe in my spare time.  This one is almost entirely second hand: vintage Mina of Carnaby Street dress, Kriss cardigan (made in Sweden - a charity shop purchase, gorgeous quality and just works with this dress), Fat Face twisted leather belt (this week's charity shop find), new Beach Bum Snag tights (vegan, plastic free) and second hand cowboy boots.

Continuing my sort out in the kitchen I found a small jar at the back of a cupboard, containing shells I had collected from Luskentyre Beach on the Isle of Harris.  I decided that the shells and an Aladdin Sane card that had been languishing in a drawer for too long, needed to be framed in the two frames I had picked up at a charity shop a couple of months ago for £2.00 each.  Not a bad return on my investment.

Last Sunday we were very relieved to receive our booster jabs.  The queues were long but fast moving and the mood was upbeat.  There was a real community spirit and the view wasn't bad either with the community centre's walls adorned with local archive photos and artwork celebrating Wordsley's renowned glass heritage and historic canal network.

Apart from a very sore arm (a first for me), I felt fine, although Gareth did feel a little out of sorts for a couple of days.  

Post vaccine, we decided to take a walk and give my red Crocs - the perfect antidote to these blue days - a first outing.  They had arrived in the post the previous day, causing much celebration on my part and cries of "Noddy" from Gareth.  Storm Arwen ensured that the ground was muddy enough as we headed to Kinver Edge just as the sun started to dip in the sky.  I teamed them with Zara jeans (ebay purchase), vintage knit, vintage sheepskin coat, woolly hat and Turtle Dove recycled cashmere wrist warmers.

Gareth gave chapter and verse to a group of tourists on all of the local places of interest visible from the Edge's vantage point, so by the time we continued towards the trees, the light was fading fast and it had started to snow.  

Without a tripod (which I admit I rarely make the effort to carry), low light necessitates widening the aperture and/or increasing the camera's ISO.  Whilst I prefer natural light photography, I decided now was the time to try something new and experiment with my Nikon's on camera flash; both rear and full versions.  Sadly my bright cherry red wellies were not enough to light the way.

The verdict?  A mixed bag.  Perhaps a wooded area at dusk and in near blizzard conditions was not the best place to trial flash photography.  However, I did like picking out details to train the camera's focus on and how the flash followed suit.  This worked best when capturing the ghostly bark of the silver birch trees, fern fronds and the mysterious orbs amongst the conifer trees.

Boosted and with masks now mandatory in shops, I did visit a couple of local charity shops this week and came back with a few finds - When God was a Rabbit, by Sarah Winman, purchased on a whim and based on a recommendation by the shop assistant, the aforementioned twisted leather belt, a William Morris 2022 calendar (the only new item)... 

...and a pair of floral red clogs by Troentorp of Sweden, founded in 1907. 

I was pleased to note that Troentorp has always emphasized the importance of anatomically correctly constructed footwear, with a base that provides support for feet and back (yay!) The base of every Troentorp clog is made of extra thick planks of wood and constructed using specially developed equipment giving the soles their characteristic footbeds with raised heels and arch support.  The wood used is Alderwood, a type of wood that is well-known for its moisture-absorbing properties, and that keep feet dry and healthy during long days.  I was also happy to discover that the clogs have no signs of wear on the bottoms and that they retail at upwards of £90.00.  I realised when I put them safely away for summer, that they are now the second pair of red clogs I own.  Is this the start of something?

I did start wondering why I am attracted to red shoes...and I am.  I have two pairs of red Swedish clogs, my trusty cherry red DMs and now the red Crocs.  I have also worn and worn out more than one pair of red ballet flats in my time.  There is just  something about red shoes.  When you're downcast, a pair of red shoes cannot fail to lift the spirits.  This moment of reflection sent me hurtling down a rabbit hole, discovering a huge coincidence at the bottom.

Like most people, the first pair of red shoes that caught my attention would have been Dorothy's in The Wizard of Oz.  Those ruby red slippers featured on many a childhood wish list.  Curiously, whilst holed up inside against Storm Arwen at the weekend, I had a little play and created these Wizard of Oz inspired images.  

I am also a lifelong fan of Kate Bush.  Yes, she can appear deranged in some of her early music videos and I get why some people think she sounds like a cat on heat, but I love her.  There's something quintessentially English about her - in a good way.  Amongst the Kate Bush albums I bought and absorbed through my Walkman earphones, I remember listening to this album on repeat.  Title?  You guessed it.  The Red Shoes.  

I remember loving one song, Moments of Pleasure, particularly the poetry and imagery of her lyrics.    

"I think about us diving, diving off a rock into another moment."  

"The buildings of New York look just like mountains through the snow."  Lovely!

Anyway, I digress.  This album's title is taken from the 1948 film The Red Shoes, starring Moira Shearer as a young ballerina torn between her art and her romance with a young composer, and so I have Kate to thank for that introduction.  The film itself is based on the Hans Christian Anderson story.  If you haven't seen it, it is a masterpiece - visually stunning and the dancing sequences (even if you're no fan of ballet) are breathtaking.  Gareth and I watched it last Christmas and were rendered speechless at times.  The film was restored in 2009 and in 2017 a poll of 150 actors, directors, writers, producers and critics for Time Out magazine saw it ranked the 5th best British film ever.

Film still/poster artwork from The Red Shoes

Like many young girls, I took ballet lessons, which I enjoyed for a time (ahem, I may even have passed my Grade I with honours), before deciding my heart wasn't in it.  Quit while your ahead must have been my mantra!  My teacher was one Vilma Henwood, principle of The Henwood School of Dance and Dramatic Art in Stourbridge.  She was an imposing presence in the studio with her jet black hair - worn in wringlets (her sister Thelma, had a similar hairstyle but was blonde).  I recall her telling us to "Move with grace, like fairies - not a heard of elephants!"

Why am I sharing this you might ask?  Well earlier this year, I happened to read a local press feature on Vilma, who I was delighted to discover is still very much alive and now a spritely 90 year old.  But here's the fascinating fact, coincidence, whatever you want to call it.  Vilma featured in The Red Shoes.

https://www.stourbridgenews.co.uk/news/19184892.stourbridge-dance-teacher-90-hopes-return-classes/redited as appearing in the Red Shoes.  Maybe that's where my obsession started.  

I have no recollection of her mentioning this claim to fame, although it's possible that she did.  Either way, I'm still reeling from the knowledge that I was taught by such a formidable talent; it's just unfortunate that her stardust failed to land on me!  But, I do love red shoes.