Angel wings, dinosaur toes and a goat or two.

If you are seeking creative ideas, go out walking. Angels whisper to a man when he goes for a walk. Raymond Inmon

It is so tempting to stay inside in winter, tempted by warmth and the comfort. However I have always loved winter and the colder months so recently we went for a walk to Mount Lofty Botanic Gardens just a few kilometres away from Adelaide's CBD. I was looking for inspiration, shapes, colours, ideas which can sometimes only be found when I go searching for them.



Skies were blue and the air was crisp. The bright pops of red and rust stood out so clearly against the greys and browns of the background. 

The sunlight shining on the ground between the trees emphasised the green of the recently rained on grass. 

Some plants were familiar to me as many grow in the U.K, hydrangeas, fuschia and narcissi whilst others were Australian to the core, like the burnt gum tree. The sequoia tree was a visitor. The colours were beautiful, dusty pinks, soft greens, reds and mauves brightening the cold winter day.  

Whoever created the road had a happy accident with the tar. These shapes were irresistible to me. Can you see the dancing figures? The picture on the right has a dancing man holding a lady in a dress, but only if you look carefully. 

An angel left their wings here. I don't know if they are coming back to get them or if these ones have worn out. 

I think I may have been the only one to spot the three legged dinosaur but I can't be certain. You never know who else is out there day dreaming. 

On the way home we spotted some goats. Without exception they all turned their back on me when I tried to photograph them. Cheeky!

It is always necessary to bring back some supplies from a walk. 

In honour of W.B. Yeats #Yeats 2015

In honour of  W.B Yeats Day #Yeats2015

The silver apples of the moon,
 The golden apples of the moon

The Song of Wandering Aengus


BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.


image copyright Linda E Clarke Illustration

Fat Pants

Think that this little guy might be the start of a new way of looking at my fruit and veg. I just might not get much cooked from now on. Who could eat this guys fat pants?