Weary Weeds

Today was a strange day the weather was cold and overcast when I got up I had a restless night and was up just after 4 30. I made a pint of sweet baby tea and pondered an early morning shot. The clouds from yesterday evening lingered and the there was no chance of a sunrise, strangely for a morning walk I headed for the river, not the warmth of summer but an almost autumnal feel in the air, the wind brisk billowing the boughs of the trees that lined my walk along the coastal.

I love these early hours, there is generally nobody around and so it was today, I walked quietly accompanied by a playlist of music for my friend, songs that provoke memories, of places and events of yesteryear and those songs that say the things we sometimes cannot say , although I have grown accustomed in recent years to share these things, I feel friends need to know how much they mean to me and how highly I value their love and friendship.

I pass these felled trunks often as I walk on this stretch of the river, I have never really given them much thought but this morning the yellows and whites of the weeds interspersed seemed to draw my eye to them, the decay setting in has now led to some beautiful textures highlighted against the darkened sky and the steely grey of the cold river water the tide running quickly. I took a few frames and walked on enjoying the stillness of empty beach.

I turned for home and the wind in my face caused my eyes to stream. I pulled my hood in close and cast my eyes down and quickened my pace. I liked this shot and hope you do too.