Textures

I realised yesterday that I have come to appreciate having the time to really stop and look at the world around me (and to have a good old natter when the occasion arises, of course!).  I am particularly aware of this in the nature (and hopefully, the quality) of the photographs I take every day for potential inclusion in this blog. A companion post to this will describe how photography is often my first step in composing a blog post.  

Anyway, with these musings rattling around inside my brain this morning, Bella and I set off on our usual morning route.  As we walked I realised that no matter how many times we walk it, I always find something new - or a fresh angle on something - to photograph.  Often the weather and the passing of the seasons furnishes stunning images to capture.  Today wasn't particularly one of those days - a vaguely bright, mild autumn-ish day.  But I was struck by the textures of the world around me, starting with this moss

 - this lichen on a painted stone windowsill

- this mixture of lichens on a wooden fence-top

 - more lichen, this time on a wall

 - condensation on a concave mirror

 - condensation on a fence panel

 - lichen on another stone wall

 - a gnarled tree trunk

 - peeling bark on a silver birch

 - grass growing out of a wooden post at the roadside

- the grain of our back room table

 - jasmine flowers poking through the hedge

After breakfast and a bit of computer footling, I looked after a friend's couple of dogs for few hours and idly played on Facebook before coming home to a late lunch with Su.  I then dropped her down into town to meet a friend who she hasn't seen for over 20 years  - any excuse for a coffee and cake! I came home for a coffee and thought that my photography for the day was over - until I stepped out of the door to give Bella a spin around the block before her tea:- 

Walked Bella round in the twilight, including a ramble round a field that she's not been in before (the gate is normally locked).  Then went down to our little patch of allotment in the fading light, and cropped a pair of leeks (apple shown for scale) from our benign neglect approach to vegetable growing. It seems to work, as we still have loads of beetroot to eat and about 20 leeks left still to pull.