Flower
It was a lovely sunny spring day here in Brisbane, down under. … Stem held for stability in the wind and for suitably uncluttered though suggestive background with appropriately contrasting dappled light and colour.
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A little different to the one above. :-) … I know, a little shadowing of the wind blown petals. Ce la vie. … Perfection is as things are for now, no stress. Everything is now, not then or when.
Two compositions I like of a native flowering in the local bushland turned MTB playground.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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Rescued …
Wolf spider, found hunting on the water’s surface. Looked quite at home.
Didn’t really need rescuing. Just looked that way at first.
Not at all perturbed at being rescued. Composed at all times.
Didn’t once consider dropping that tasty morsel of a fly.
In the beginning, sense.
Whichever sense it is it occurs in space, or a sense of space, first.
The sense of sensation, inside. The sense of sight, or sound, or touch …
When all problems are in the mind, of thinking or emotion.
You won’t find a problem outside of it/them.
We rescue ourselves.
In the end.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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Signs …
A little love of her nature, a flower for her winter.
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Tiny bells with a spider on. Endless activity of one thing loving another.
… from the bush.
Signs of life, signs of love … the love of the earth to express in all forms, and form to love in turn, other forms.
Everything loves some thing, then loves again, and again. Endlessly, even in death something is loved.
That’s life on earth, love on earth, is that one thing attends to another, out of the need to give and receive.
Life can’t stop loving, in form. Form can’t stop loving life as form.
And, at the end of form, life loves love.
Everything else ends.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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Bee Again …
The only full face shoot available to me on the day. Good posture, didn’t notice me at all, too focused.
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Seedlings shooting up all over the place, will eventually bear flowers and food for the bees that drink hereabouts.
All different individuals, they don’t stop for long, just like they are when visiting flowers in the garden. Busy bees.
And dedicated, no slackers here. They have one mission, to serve the purpose of the hive and the queen, one life.
One for all and all for one. Loved that about the three musketeers. Such a selfless lot, well at least they endeavored. I think. :-)
Mid winter here in the southern hemisphere, cold and often wet lately, I don’t expect to find much to shoot (photograph to the uninitiated).
Then I found this hidden oasis where it has been hiding in the open all these years, at my feet. Down the road from my mechanics place.
I went wandering off the beaten pathways and came to a creek and stood still a while in the warm sunshine that Brisbane’s winter is famous for.
Then I heard it, a buzzing sound upon the trickle of the clear creek water at my feet. Bees, taking up the moisture and minerals below.
This, from my first such discovery of this bee-haviour, was a pleasure to see.
And so I went to work, down on my hunkers, stretching this way and that, using the versatile stick for support and maneuverability to get the shots and not fall in.
And so it goes, doing our best to not fall in while enjoying what we can, as long as it lasts.
This life of mine …
(seems wordpress are mucking around with the editor again, producing two size texts I can’t reconcile)
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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The Woods … and Other Creatures
Siren call, to a bee, or someone who can see …
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Surprise resident, though shouldn’t be, knowing nature occupies every sheltered spot.
And unafraid, apparently at ease with having been disturbed from its resting place.
Time for a few shots, a patient model, going nowhere in a hurry at a pace. A slow pace, pause …
The dome of its colourful and bountiful house. Blooming just beginning on this one.
An almost sweet face, to a mother. … Who knows what nature sees in nature. Surely no unhappiness here.
When the flowers bloom it’s time to visit them, wherever they are. So I came upon them once more, deliberately.
They were a little older, matured, and somewhat bedraggled from the cold and rain. But some still shone.
As I took one in my hand and touched the greenery beneath a big spider ran out and stopped aloft.
Huntsman, looks like, young but already making its way to maturity, being fed enough.
Enough for now, it always seems so in nature. No waste in this apparent wasteland.
Which nature can sometimes appear to be.
But it’s only an appearance.
As you can see.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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To The Woods
I haven’t seen this flower before, in 12 years walking in the woods. … To refresh and renew.
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Couldn’t help but notice this other form of life, a spent floret perhaps, or another plants seed. … Looked like a tiny spider before I got the lens on it.
And along came the honey bee, busy bee, non stop forager. She didn’t see me so I had a free hand, to capture an image of a fast moving creature.
I got more than one go, as we do in most things, and trust the results are good enough for now. Good enough, for now.
We, Katie and I, have a favourite place in the woods for meditation practise every second Sunday – that’s the rule, and we renew it as necessary.
So far we have not met many people there as it’s one of those rare places few know about.
It’s a lovely place with a few large old dams that were once private property, now in public ownership.
On the way back today I came across a flower I hadn’t seen before and took a few pictures.
As I was bent over framing the shot a honey bee came along, buzzing flower after flower.
She didn’t notice me, being part of the background, to a bee, so I took the opportunity.
Gotta take the opportunity, or it passes …
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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M I A
Welcome to my domain.
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If you mean no harm, or are food.
I’ll wait here patiently, til the flowers die.
Holding on, if only by a thread, it seems.
Food, to a spider … not a lot about these cold winter days.
Mother has gone missing in action, life moves on.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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Mother Love
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A bit of luck, a surviving crab spider in the garden. And another much smaller one, possibly offspring, possibly a mate, possibly … Staking out a nearby flower, stalking, hunting, hungry.
It’s not uncommon to find the offspring of any creature living near its mother and birthplace, though it’s probably ‘every creature for itself’ after a certain age, the age of leaving the protective embrace of mother’s love.
Mother also has another love, or lover. Him, that helps make the babies for mother to love, and leave. The mother of spiders is often much bigger than the father. Obviously, she has the bigger job to do. He not so much, often just coming and going.
So, not being an expert on spider matters, the story is open to make it up as we go. What spider may be. Free of the encumbrance of past designs.
Love of another kind, letting go the way we were, to fit to a pattern we no longer weave.
© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.
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Nature's Place 
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