Portrait of the photographer as an old fart.The toothed and slightly hairy leaves of sage - close silvery felt on a green membrane.
In the garden some bones picked clean. Too big for a part of a chicken. A leg of lamb perhaps. Something out of a dustbin certainly. A few days ago there was a huge kerfuffle out there, in the middle of the night. A fight over something. Undoubtedly these bones nicked from a dustbin by foxes, probably cubs judging by the sound, were the cause of the fight, the bones evidence of its cause.
3 comments:
I like your self photo. Looks like an interesting gent pursuing his interests.
Also, the evidence of the kerfuffle in your garden.
I am fascinated by the dramas and life tales of the animals who live among us or in close proximity.
I like old farts, even when they aren't.
I've said this before but your photo insists I repeat it. Your mode of dress suggests you are intent not on becoming an old fart (since this would be a judgement on your mind) but an indispensable TW character. In fact this state was probably achieved some years ago and now you are busy burnishing the raw material. Eventually you will figure in one of the BBC's ineffable vox pop. TV interviews about, say, university fees where you will provide a salty response to camera. Characters always talk saltily.
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