photo: Botanical Garden, Nelson, a duck projects itself into the light and its murky reflection attracts attention until it goes back into the shadow of the pond.
There she was, the old lady I would become, I said to myself, as I saw her every morning, resolved to walk about town with her shopping bag. She was there, then one day she wasn’t.
photo : Nelson, Botanical Garden, relfections
… and sometimes it is the mirror that is unfaithful
that distorts reality, that’s why, believe me,
It is better to reverse the direction of the gaze said
someone I wanted to listen to
photo : Nelson Botanical Garde, a scene of daily life that contains several layers of interpretation, light or deep, your choice. When I looked back at this photo, it was the duality of representation that struck me, as if nature had been telling us all along that beings are double.
I perceives as best I can/
in the mirror of my illusions/
Through the branches of my emotions/
and all the drafts of lies/
Without doing it on purpose, I do what we can.
to walk in the seasons
with the same shoes:
it is a little hot
it is a little cold
it is a little wet
it is a little muddy
somehow like life
*posted in September 2023
photo : when the ducks think they are gods, they transform Nelson botanical gardens in an Impressionist painting.
It was the hour of silence at dusk. I ask him: « Who do you think you are? » In his eyes, deep as the secrets of the ocean, a spark of defiance: « I think I am God », in his firm, inflexible, unwavering voice « like old stones ». But I remain silent, for the gods are many and faith, well, is ephemeral. The wind whispered through the sheets stories of forgotten deities, of power lost in the sands of time. And you, a mere mortal, enveloped in your grandeur, did not touch my soul. I have seen gods fall, I have seen their temple crumble, and your proclamation, good Heavens, was but a whisper in the vastness of the night.
