Photos and thoughts by Daniel Owen, Anglican minister and amateur photographer…
We were walking back having spent some time exploring the rock pools when four horses and their riders came down to the sea. The sun was low in the sky and so as they came towards us they were silhouetted, with the headland and lighthouse behind them. They took it in turns to canter through the surf from one end of the beach to the other, it was a wonderful thing to watch…
Earlier this month we took our Confirmation group away for the weekend and one of the highlights of the trip was a walk up Ireland’s highest inland mountain, Galtymore.
It was a beautiful day, bright and clear, yet with an autumnal chill in the air. As we climbed higher the wind became increasingly ridiculous, (just watch the video at the end to get an idea of what I mean)!
I left my camera behind, relying on an iPhone 4 to take the pictures…
Here are some colour photos as a follow up to the earlier black and whites (which you can find here).
Mountain Light, larger version here.
Fern detail, larger version here.
Expecting ‘Postman Pat’, larger version here.
Last of the Sun on Great Gable, larger version here.
View from Scafell Pike Summit, larger version here.
Walking towards Wasdale Head, larger version here.
‘Roots and Stream’, Cumbria 2012. (Panasonic LX1, 1/30 sec, f3.2, 8.7mm, ISO 80) Larger version here.
Every Sunday in our Parish notices we have a ‘Memory Verse’, a sentence or two from the Bible to encourage, comfort or challenge the reader. The verse from last Sunday was still wending it’s way through the alcoves of my mind as I was looking through some pictures taken during our summer holiday. As I came across the photo above it was just asking to be paired with that verse:
Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.
(Colossians 2:7)
New Living Translation
Here are some landscape photos which I took back in August when we were in the wonderfully rugged terrain around Wastwater in Cumbria, England. I’ll put up some colour ones next time but for now here are four Black & Whites from the hundred or so pictures that I took. By the way if you are wondering about the sky in the second picture and whether it’s real or not – yes it is – the trick is to use a polarizing filter and stand at 90 degrees to the sun…
I never met him but I can imagine what he might have been like. Perhaps Micheál was a great talker, a real personality, always with an opinion to share on any issue you would care to mention, (but especially if it involved politics or sport). At the same time he seems to have liked to have his back to the wall, to sit in the corner and survey the room; perhaps to watch and weigh-up those coming in or going out. For those that knew him this corner must seem very empty now. But as they look up at his painting they can remember him, the laughter and the good times. ‘Where did the time go?’ His old friends might say. ‘One minute he was here, the next he was gone. We thought he would always be there … but I suppose in a way he still is.’
As I came around the corner the Labrador looked up expectantly at me, then realising that I was not the human he was hoping for, his ears dropped and he resumed his quiet and patient vigil.
When I was growing up we had a dog similar to this one. He used to be my alarm clock in the morning, bounding up the stairs, and jumping on my bed as if to say ‘get up, do you know what time it is?’ When I came home on visits from boarding school he would practically knock me over with canine exuberance. He was like a member of the family and even though I had long left home when he died, I missed him very much. My experience this morning makes me realise that I still do miss him at times…
He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.
Imprints of Light 