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Posts Tagged ‘rain’

If there was snow on the coppery branches, then it was quickly washed away.

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… for long spells of time I have been having much fun walking in the English rain.  I even hummed a bit as I walked through Oxford University Parks yesterday. Until the rains became too heavy … 😉

As for the reference to Gene Kelly, here’s a short youtube video of him Singing in the Rain.  Enjoy!

 

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… they did keep falling gently into the puddles.  The puddles had been formed earlier in the morning when the heavy rains fell.  As the rain eased I decided to see what would happen if I tried to photograph the ripples upon the waters.  Afterwards as I played with brightness, contrast and color, the images  reminded me of a watery universe.  I’m not sure why my mind is in the stars of late, but … I am going to go with the flow and so I have created a temporary gallery pairing these water universe pics with my black sands universe series.  Enjoy. 😉

Like Stars in the Sky Gallery

 

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As soon as we returned home from the beach, the rains began but the sun was still shining so bright.  It made each drop sparkle like the proverbial diamond.  With no expectation of outcomes, it was fun to lean out the window and photograph the falling water.

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a lost bloom found on my way into work in the rain

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Not a rainbow but …

… I was taking a shortcut through the Boston Public Library, making my way from the Boylston Street entrance to the Dartmouth Street side.  Of course I had to pause for a quick browse of the New Arrivals shelf.  That’s where I saw the deed take place.

It would be easy to assume that the old man was homeless, one of the many who frequent the building.  His clothing was bedraggled to say the least and his beard more than a bit unkempt.  His brown skin was weathered into the proverbial leather.  Despite apparent age, there was an almost childish bright light in his rheumy eyes.  While he walked with the aid of a battered metal cane, there was a spryness to his step as he made his way across the room.  But, I have to admit, I noticed none of these details until later, until after I heard the young man’s voice calling, “Hey.  Hey! Wait a minute, old man.”

The old man had been walking away from me, but he turned at the younger man’s voice, and that was how I was able to see his face.  The younger man had been walking toward me, looking gruff and rushed as so many of us do today as we race, race, race.  I had seen him brush passed the old man nearly knocking him over.  But then he had stopped.  The gruff look upon his face had not changed. In fact, it deepened.

At some point the younger man  spun around.  With a fierce, aggressive energy, he called the old man.  When the man paused and turned to face him, the young man raced back to him.  “Here,” he said, and shoved something into the old man’s hand.

The old man raised a plastic bag.  It was just clear enough for me to see that inside were a pair of shoes.  I glanced down and saw what the younger man may have seen.  The old man’s feet were barely covered by a pair of threadbare sneakers.

“Where did these come from?” the old man asked, clearly perplexed.  The younger man had already turned away.  Over his shoulder he growled, “St. Francis.”

The older man looked at the bag, shrugged, and continued on his way.

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and greens …

and even a bit of abstract black.

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… and that’s okay.

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