Tag: solitude

Poetry by Patrick JenningsAug 7, 201611:09 am

Obscured Path, White Lake Trail, White Lake Grasslands, Okanagan Falls, British Columbia, Canada

Obscured ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #49

I follow the obscured path
Tall grass licking my legs
Tickling the spokes
Going “teedle teedle teedle”
While handlebars cut a swath
Parting a bow wave in the ocean of grass

It’s like swimming through a sea
Of stems and raspy leaves
The stiff breeze wrestles up a wave
Which rolls across the grassland and trees
A moment of cool in the sun roasted air
Which clings to my lips, dries my lungs

Poetry by Patrick JenningsNov 22, 20159:41 pm

In the November greys

In the November greys
Cold and wet
I have the beaches to myself
Mile upon mile
As if they were put here
Just for my pleasure

Poetry by Patrick JenningsOct 19, 20157:00 am

Autumn

A chill, damp, grey day
Empty picnic tables
In an empty park
Where all the leaves have fallen

What could say autumn more
With such spare beauty
And somber solitude?

Poetry by Patrick JenningsSep 20, 20152:13 pm

Sunrise and Solitude in the City

Sunlight penetrates the dawn
Fiery, virile, urgent
Skyline silhouette
City slumbering, still

Solitude
Among millions
Sole witness
To creation

Landscape by Patrick JenningsJun 28, 20158:13 am

Rollling Hills, The Mereenie Loop, Near Gosse Bluff, Northern Territory, Australia

The Wide Ochre Land

I’ve heard it famously referred to as the wide brown land, but to me it is an expanse of ochre and red, tones more descriptive of its character. Australia is a rich land, but not overly saturated. Intense, but not glaring. One goes to ground here, becomes part of the earth, lives at a walker’s pace. Immersed in a hot bath of air, the heat fills my lungs, reddens my flesh, soothes my spirit.

Poetry by Patrick JenningsJun 26, 201510:03 am

Who reminisces the foggy days?

On a bright sunny day
Under cloudless cobalt skies
A cool sea breeze
Taking the sting off the heat

Bird song, children’s laughter and a bicycle

Abstract by Patrick JenningsApr 15, 20157:00 am

Shadow in the Singing Sands

Dragging my feet along the dune’s crest I notice the shadow falling away in the sand. Stopped, I am a willowy figure, impossibly tall, in a cloudless, windless expanse of sand beyond my cinematic imagination. A lone — lonely — silhouette for whom the Mountains of Singing Sands do not offer a whisper. Isolation. Solitude.

Framing the picture is easy, but the figure… the figure lacks form. A couple of poses make no improvement, until I hold my left arm out and the camera strap falls from my shoulder.