The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.
Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “Afternoon in February”
our week // vol 3
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
— Wallace Stevens
from “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird“
our week // vol 2
our week // vol 1
Something I noticed about halfway through my 52 project last year is that, although I take a lot of photos, only a tiny fraction of them end up on my blog. While that is probably a good thing, generally, I do think there are some interesting shots that don’t make the cut. Taking nothing but portraits leaves out a lot of the everyday details of our lives; things I will want to remember someday. Sometimes the sunlight on the kitchen wall is just really beautiful. So, I thought maybe it would be nice to post some of the extra photos I take each week (knowing that I’ll probably miss some weeks, and that’s okay). These are the ones I liked this week.
The winter comes: the frozen rut
Is bound with silver bars;
the white drift heaps against the hut;
and night is pierced with stars.
— Coventry Patmore