Archives par mot-clé : winter

Then*

photo :

…then you will sit down

in the resting area

and will be moved

when reaching the letter o

marveling over words

and close the story drawers

until your bones crumble

 

*First posted in 2021, edited in 2025

...then you will  sit down

in the resting  area

and  will be moved

when reaching the letter o

marvelling over the words

then close the story drawer

until your bones crumble

 

#4032 poetry*

photo : obviously, a photo from a winter different from the ones we have in Nelson, but the feeling is the same. Ottawa River. This ghostly vision spontaneously inspired a(n almost) rhymed poem in French (not so much in English, though)


We found our ghosts/

where we had placed them/

in the river of our dreams/

where they fell asleep/

listening our lies/

but the music was nice/.

*put online in 2024, edited in 2025

#4048 simple news

Photo: Il like the scarcity of winter.

In January 2025, I thought it was time to put all my photos on my computer to finally organize them. After uploading about 22,000 of them, my app refused to add any more, and that’s when I realized I had to do something, so I started the challenge to delete one photo at a time. I only have 8,000 photos left to review, after which I’ll add the remaining 7 or 8,000 on USB, and then finally put each photo in the album it belongs to. I wouldn’t recommend the laissez-faire attitude I’ve shown to anyone, but there have been some good times. Among other things, I’ve realised that I need to wait a little before deleting them (not for ten years like I did), that taking a photo often makes me remember a moment or place better, and that my tastes and approach to photography have evolved over time. But all this work also means that I’ve taken very few photos this year, and I’m looking forward to getting back to it.

Temperature-wise, winter is well and truly here in Nelson, with temperatures of 1 degree at night and 13 during the day (but it’s 7 or 8 in the morning when I go for my walk). The top of the mountains are all white, but the sun is shining, and it’s pleasant to go for a brisk walk and feel a little warm at the end of it.

My poetic journey through words and image/ Mon journal poetique a travers les mots et les images