Shadow Turns

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Shadow decided that it was time for the camera to capture another profile.
She is perched on the railing outside the laundry.
This is her new favourite outdoor place in the early morning.
~
Pet Pride meme
~

Always remember
Beauty has many faces
Wise gems from Shadow
~


Hosted by Bozo and magiceye @ Pets Forever

Kookaburra Profile

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Macro profile of a kookaburra on my verandah in the Dromana Hills, Mornington Peninsula
~
Macro Monochrome #55
~

Little character
A joy of laughter each day
Tiny winged wisdom
~

Macro Monochrome is hosted by Birgitta Rudenius

If I were to be...

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Ambivalent winter morning skies in the Dromana Hills, Mornington Peninsula
~
Sunday Scribblings #222 - ME
~

*** This is my Gemma Wiseman profile on Helium

To understand me...

To understand me, perhaps a few tangibles may help.

If I were the sky, I would be a cloud drifting, reshaping, reinventing, but always enigmatic. If I were the earth, I would be a rock, bathing in the rush of a waterfall. If I were a tree, I would be a willow, that soft lacy wandering in the whims of breezes, dreaming quietly by water.

If I were a place, I would be Sheffield in Tasmania; coloured with murals whispering of other lifetimes; wrapped in the mystery of blue mountains flecked with snow.

If I were a shop, I would be Berkelouw's rambling magic of a homestead, alone in serene farmland, in Berrima NSW; graced with an intimate cafe, window boxes of vibrant geraniums and a wonderful log fire hosted by an old armchair. And of course, those books forgotten by the mainstream bookworld.

If I were a garden, I would be Mount Annan Botanic Garden south of Sydney NSW. A healing place, where forested boardwalks gently lead to sanctuaries of old songlines and a sundial on a hill waits for human shadows to cast time.

If I were to be a season, I would be Autumn; that mystical limbo raining in color.

If I were to be an element, I would be Water, the paradox of a variable constant; sometimes plains of blue leading to silken road horizons; sometimes lapping charms by those coastal sands of decision; sometimes cleansing, healing hands; sometimes drowning rebirth.

If I were a bread of life, I would wink impishly from the exotic worlds of a chocolate box.

But, I am none of those things, for now.

For now, I am just some eerie etchings on a white slate, trying to drift in a tiny bark through tai chi skies.



Hosted by
Laini Genge and
Megg Taylor