On feathers - words and images in response to a pre-covid photograph

 

Dawn Flight, Camber Sands 2019

I belong to the 'photo and text' group of London Independent Photography.
A group for photographers who also enjoy words, and who value the added meaning that text can bring.

At our last meeting we agreed to respond with words and/or images to a photograph that I made on a balmy summer's morning in the pre-covid days.

Gulls at dawn, on a gentle high tide. A double exposure with a feather filling the sky.

I decided to respond with words and new photos in the form of a poem. The following words and images are my thoughts and reflections.

​

Dawn flight

A photograph;
gulls drifting and rising
calling and falling over
waves stilled in the windless air.
A peachy morning glow
​

Feather | Caroline Fraser 2021

A feather....

its quill still,
(no writing today)
emerges skywards 
from its silica bed.
Battered and torn,
no longer worn.
A feather re-fresh.
Self maintenance, gull style.
The pre-breeding molt.
​
A delicate descent
of plumage
from sky to sand.


​

Does it hurt when they fall?
​Why do we never see the descent?


How many feathers are needed for a bird to fly?

‘The work of feather counting is tedious and exacting, and yields small result relative to the labour involved’

In 1932 Phoebe Knappen counted 11,903 feathers on an adult female mallard.

feather detail | Caroline Fraser 2021

Rachis and vane.
Calamus and barbule.
(I am learning the words all over again).
Ripped and contorted by the roll and clatter
of pebbles on a spring tide,
lying in repose amongst fragments 
tossed landwards from the deep.
The exquisite curls of downy barbs
lie abutted as if trees on a windswept hill.

beach debris | Caroline Fraser | 2021

I counted five feathers as I strolled
with the photograph in mind
The average gull has 5000.
Where are the rest?

​

gull feather | Caroline Fraser | 2021

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Thank you for reading...... it has been a while.... I think covid recovery took longer than I realised. 

I could add some comments about home life and how my other half has turned very unexpectedly into a model railway enthusiast, but you probably don't want to know the finer details of track laying and the correct angles for smooth running of railway curves.....

I insisted that he purchase a name sign for his station. I wait with bated breath; the choices are endless. It's a big decision. Suggestions welcome.

​Watch this space.....

​

the cone man cometh.........

morning light on the English Channel

I was down on the beach at dawn this week.

Fortunately dawn is getting later, but I had to forgo my breakfast when I saw a pink tinge in the sky and knew that any proper photographer would already be on the beach, waiting for the light, rather than drinking tea under the duvet and trying to talk themselves out of bed.

I wanted to see how the rock men were getting on rebuilding the sea defences.

The tide was far too high up to allow me to walk unnoticed along the shore. I therefore decided to be a law abiding citizen, observing the action from a safe distance, well away from the dangerous rocks.

The light on the sea was soft and silvery. Low in the sky. Metallic. Calm.

morning light on the channel

The seagulls were entirely oblivious to the action around them.

The lorries and diggers studiously ignored.

Seagulls, rocks and lorries

I crept towards the action, but heard an engine approaching across the beach.

I was in trouble again..........

Cone man had arrived, probably to tell me to keep away from the rocks.

cone man 

I soon realised that he was not bothered by my presence. After all I was not crossing any invisible lines into a 'no-go' area.


He was merely here to put his cones out.

Cone

He had three to arrange on the beach.

Three cones

He did a fine job, even if one was a little on the small side.


They formed an orderly line.


Ready to keep people away from the dangerous rocks.


Optimism in life is a good quality to have.


Cone man then hopped back onto his quad bike and was gone; into the sunrise.

Cone man returns from whence he cometh

Men and dogs arrived for their daily exercise.

man, dog, cone

The seagulls studiously ignored them all.

man, dogs and gulls

 I felt very hungry and went off to find some food.

all day breakfast

Cone man will return at dusk to fetch his cones.

I will return at low tide to see what I can see.




And so it will go on.