isla de soto

isla de soto…

salamancastreets

our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty”

― albert einstein

misty ambiguity

twist

reedy

exhausted

haven

hoopoe, youpoe, weallpoe

crossed

fallen

if you’ve got it, flaunt it

nesting

setting goals

black redstart

bs

who am i?

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coquilla

i’ll be there as soon as I can
but I’m busy mending broken
pieces of the life I had before

– unintended, muse

in a tight corner

do they toll for thee?

they also serve who only perch and wait

bound and confined

reach for the sky

will you still love me?

fleeting romance

stacked

haunted


*all images made with nikon d700 with nikkor 200-500mm f/5.6 and 50mm f/1.4 lenses, developed in lightroom cc*

la españa vacía

salamancastreets

only the sunset knows my blind desire for the fleeting
only the moon understands the beauty of love
when held by a hand like the aura of nostalgia

Nostalgia, Emily Barker and The Red Clay Halo


Inspirado en parte por la españa vacía, el libro escrito por sergio del molino

cerrada

mordaz

vacía

retorcido

camino

bloqueado

ironía

mordido

presionado

acerbo

después

abatimiento

refugio

desolado

centinela


*imágenes realizadas con olympus om10, objetivo de 135mm f/3.5, película de blanco y negro de ilford, sin editar*

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lunes de agua

a tale of wine, hornazo and ‘oars’ on lunes de agua on salamancastreets

salamancastreets

I wonder, would it be true and fair to describe Spain as the home of ‘fiestas’?

Each town, each community, often has more than one day set aside each year to celebrate one thing, or another.

Perhaps none has a celebration quite as distinctive as that held in Salamanca each year. Hot on the heels of the solemn processions and religous observance over Easter comes Lunes de Agua.

Literally ‘water Monday’, the (half) day fiesta which begins in the middle of the afternoon, on the Monday which follows Easter Monday, brings everyone in the family (young and old) together to celebrate the day on which, by long-standing tradition (dating back to the reign of Felipe II) the prostitutes of this ancient University city, banished during Semana Santa from its beautiful streets and plazas, were repatriated (with pomp and circumstance) from the far side of the river Tormes by boat. The…

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Montemayor del rio

A post on salamancastreets featuring a close encounter with a frisky bull and a less than adequate fence, (two) group(s) of brightly clad bikers, a couple of donkeys, some bees and some very friendly locals in a bar in Peñacaballera.

salamancastreets


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– The Road not taken, Robert Frost


An expedition along the Ruta de la Plata which traces the path of a still visible Roman road known as the Via de la plata.

Along the road which winds its way from Mérida to Astorga, we had a close encounter with a frisky bull and a less than adequate fence, (two) group(s) of brightly clad bikers, a couple of donkeys, some bees and some very friendly locals in a bar in Peñacaballera.

The incident with the bull involved a degree of clear, present and imminent danger and I felt stopping to take a portrait shot would perhaps have been inadvisable. The bull which features below was…

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(re)finding my mojo | monsagro

And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Y ahora aquí está mi secreto, un secreto muy simple: solo con el corazón se puede ver correctamente; Lo que es esencial es invisible a los ojos

– Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, El Principito


So, do you think I saw with my heart?

Entonces, ¿crees que vi con mi corazón?



All photos made with Fujifilm X100F with fixed 23mm (35mmFX equivalent) lens

on reading

It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it.
― Oscar Wilde

One of the advantages of being a frequent flyer is that it gives you precious time to concentrate on reading. And yes, I like to ignore the fact that many flights now offer the ‘benefit’ of in flight wifi. I prefer (vastly) the benefit of in flight disconnection from the world of work. It is (or was) one of the last few bastions of serenity and a place to hide from all those ‘whatsapp’ groups people seem to think aid communication at work. Don’t even get me started on that last one, it could become a post in itself and lead to unintended consequences.

Reading is one of the most precious gifts that we can give our children.

I remember when I was around about six years old that one of my favourite places of refuge was the ‘box room’ in my grandmother’s house in Rawtenstall. Actually, I think the box room had in fact been a place that my father was stored in as opposed to boxes but, no matter, it was a special place for me. It contained what at that age I felt to be an impressive library of books that opened up a whole world outside the (then) grim confines of Rawtenstall. The town’s buildings in those days were blackened with soot and the river that flowed behind my school stank of goodness knows what, concerns about pollution seemed a world away, and in many ways they were. The town at that stage was suffering from post industrial decline and its place in the world – defined by the dark satanic mills that once produced shoes and cotton for the Empire – was doubtful. And that is why those books were so important to me.

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