The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
Rabindranath Tagore
This tiny British butterfly is a male Common Blue. It’s about an inch across. And while it might be among our most common UK butterflies, having one pose like this is a rare occurrence. They’re usually pretty skittish, so you only catch a glint, a flitting chink of summer sky, and then they’re gone. This was a chance encounter on a summer’s evening.
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Expectations are like clouds – beautiful from afar, yet vanishing when you reach for them Monika Ajay Kaul
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The light does not stay… Tennessee Williams
There’s that moment as the sun disappears when there’s just enough light to take a photo.
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So passeth, in the passing of the day, of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre
Edmund Spencer
The glory of a Morning Glory is so brief, half a day at most. And you need to be up early to catch the best of it. I’m not sure how long the runner bean flowers last, perhaps a couple of days before they’re fertilised and begin to transform into beans. I must pay more attention next summer.
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mutation of weathers
and seasons,
a windfall composing
the floor it rots into
Seamus Heaney North
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The wind shall blow them none knows whither
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Foolhardy or deeply ironic: a dandelion clock for a timepiece? But then it always was such fun, huffing and puffing, seeing how far those little parachutes would fly. A sure way to annoy a gardener.
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Leaves are the verbs that conjugate the seasons
Gretel Ehrlich The Solace of Open Spaces
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Two seasons on Much Wenlock’s Linden Walk. Watching the leaves come and go through the year is another kind of time-keeping. The quiet sort.
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Lens-Artists: Ephemeral This week Tina sets the theme. Call in to see her thoughtful and inspiring post.
