Bouquet of Barbed Wire

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I keep going back to photograph this  well crowned fence post. It is on the boundary between the allotments and the bean field. I first caught sight of it back in the spring when I was out using my Lumix on ‘dramatic  monochrome’ setting. Then it was surrounded by drifts of Queen Ann’s Lace. Now the dying grasses have a nostalgic end-of-season look, and all before summer has hit its stride. But either way, spring or summer, colour or black and white, I find myself captivated by the image. I cannot say why.

copyright 2015 Tish Farrell

 

This post was inspired by Jithin at PhoTrablogger and his challenge: Mundane Monday #16 in which he urges to go out and find beauty in the ordinary things around us.

43 thoughts on “Bouquet of Barbed Wire

      1. It all depends where you ride, Tish. We ride in Wyoming, in the mountains, through areas that have been fenced for years. If you get off the trails, you have to be aware of places that might have wire, just as you have to watch for the plants that indicate water and a soggy spot to be avoided, or any other possible hazard.

  1. Barbed and/or razor wire as a burglar deterrent are almost ubiquitous in some parts of SA.
    Not my favorite stuff.
    But a nice photograph, all the same.

    1. Just saying to Robin what a brooding, and oppressive series that was. Remember being a bit fascinated too. Perhaps whoever wrote it, Lynda la Plante?? had a thing about barbed wire too.

  2. I love the look of razor wire, especially in the city with bits of old, sun-bleached debris caught in it, not sure why. Wouldn’t think it nice to look at, maybe it’s something in the contrast. Or we’re control freaks, like the notion of security.

    1. It is an odd thing to like when you come right down to it. Being reared in the country, I was forever being disentangled from the stuff. Then electric fencing appeared in farm fields and that was more exciting.

    1. It was quite something that serial. So much smut and angst. Don’t have that kind of thing up at the allotment. And yes, what did happen to Susan Penhaligon. Sounds like a title for a short story.

  3. I can see why you are drawn to this and I do like the way you have photographed it. I had to go and see the black and white image and I think I like that better, possibly because the delicate froth of the lacy flowers is such a juxtaposition with the harsh brutality of the barbed wire.

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