A niece of mine wrote the narrative poem (below) to accompany this photo ... she is a fine talent!

I bring the photo forward from my photostream in her honour. We are contemplating a book of her poetry to accompany some of my photographs - perhaps it will happen, perhaps it will not. I will share your comments with her. Cheers!

______________________________

'In Search of Lost Time'

A few stores along that side of the street
Sit empty and forgotten
Like the occasional refuse carelessly tossed
On cobbled streets.
Old windows reflect the busyness
And hum of street noise.

The old man paused at 37B during his morning shuffle
Peering through the dirty glass,
Hunched slightly forward,
Hands tightly clasped behind him in
Some personal pathos.
He waited until she took form again,
Her small oval face partly obscured
By time and rebellious curls,
Her flashing dark eyes, captivation.
Why had he never dared to draw up his breath,
March into the tinker’s shop and ask
Her to tea!
Had she ever known he was there?
There was such promise!
But the war.
Carried her away like it did his youth
That ebbed away on the front lines.
He returned like so many did,
A shell.
He forgot to demand of life
What it could still proffer,
Trying to forget
The roar, clamour and blood
And the last sighs of fallen friends.
He didn’t look for her again
Until the loneliness
Outweighed the din of past battles
And there,
He found her again
Past the reflections
Of old glass and shadows.

©CHill
2021

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The photo was first posted in 2016 with the following text.

“L’influence anesthésiante de l’habitude ayant cessé, je me mettais à penser, à sentir, choses si tristes." (Marcel Proust: 'In Search of Lost Time')

We have had a major bout of freezing rain during the night, about 5mm of photogenic - but very dangerous - ice on everything ... cross your fingers for us that our power lines don't come down. Trees and branches are crashing all about as I write this ... the price of having such warm unseasonable weather I suppose?

- Loures, Portugal -

Tags:   man window street reflections door peering sidewalk hands coupled aimless Loures Portugal Canadapt Proust

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In the archives looking for b&w conversion prospects.

- Castelo Branco, Portugal -

My niece wrote a poem to accompany this portrait ...

In a Church Doorway

She waited in a church doorway,
For what, only she knew.
Her lifeworn face seamed
By creases and lines and travail,
Her eyes downcast as her mouth.
Her bag of stones at her feet
Ready contents set to fly
With a string of curses and epithets
If she felt threatened,
But she never did.
She hummed softly to herself,
Songs only she knew
Or remembered from echoes long past.
Does anyone remember
If she had ever been young?
She waited in a church doorway -
A stone edifice with candles and incense
And prayers and statues of saints;
Just as much made in the image of God
As the people she never associated with.

C. Hill (2020)

Tags:   woman doorway door church toque rest weary weariness Castelo Branco Portugal Canadapt Fatima

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First posted March 28, 2013

Early morning light on Lake Ontario, Toronto, Canada

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Tendencies

You ask “Would I?” And I respond “maybe ... mostly”
Black is not, white is not
Stripes of light in wondrous intensity ripple across my life
Spots of light illuminate the turning points
Brightness one day
Darkness another
Variations of light
Light in varying quantity
Light of special quality
Dim possibilities
Bright prospects


@M. Hill


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I learned about minimalism in large part from Hiroshi Sugimoto.

Tags:   morning sunrise lake water horizon light Hiroshi Sugimoto minimalism poem tendencies Lake Ontario Toronto Canadapt

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Tendencies

You ask “Would I”? And I respond “maybe ... mostly”
Black is not, white is not
Stripes of light in wondrous intensity ripple across my life
Spots of light illuminate the turning points
Brightness one day
Darkness another
Variations of light
Light in varying quantity
Light of special quality
Dim possibilities
Bright prospects

@M. Hill

- Costa da Caparica, Portugal -

Tags:   entrance hallway windows shadows railing building Costa da Caparica Portugal Canadapt

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Tendencies

You ask “Would I?” And I respond “maybe ... mostly”
Black is not, white is not
Stripes of light in wondrous intensity ripple across my life
Spots of light illuminate the turning points
Brightness one day
Darkness another
Variations of light
Light in varying quantity
Light of special quality
Dim possibilities
Bright prospects

@M. Hill (2007)

- Figueiró dos Vinhos, Leiria, Portugal -

Tags:   light shadow window wall room interior construction monochromatic poem Figueiró dos Vinhos Portugal Canadapt

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