A Time for Harvest and Messing with the Contrast. . .

"The air is still as feathers and the yellow sun nowhere to be seen.
From the top of the old ash tree, a crow shouts. . . his voice
resounding like a claxon, sending sound waves
shimmering through the static air. "

- My Name is ZING

This week has been a tapestry, multi layered and woven with those rich hues that give line and shape; adding shadow and definition and bringing stories into sharp focus. People close to me, people I care about, have lost loved ones and one stitch in our family story has passed on as all things must do. Another bright skein of silk to be woven into our memories.

Meanwhile in the air is the nip of autumn and the sounds of the machinery bringing in this years harvest. The fields are busy with combine harvesters kicking up dust into the evening air as the corn is baled. Leaving the horizon decorated with golden circles as the low sun sets; Streaking the landscape with its long shadows, criss crossed by country roads and slow lumbering trailers hauling home the harvest and sprinkling the air with gold.

I haven't been feeling too well these last few days, full of some sort of lurgy! leaving me with that strange feeling of being insulated inside my own head. Spacey and muffled, with the outside world viewed as through a fish-eye lens - food has been tasteless, my senses dulled and I crave the colour and taste that is temporarily banished. So in sorting through my lacklustre photos taken earlier this week for some to accompany this post. I did what I thought was appropriate, I turned down the brightness and turned up the contrast. It has been that kind of week. . .

I hope that your week has been a good one.
Normal contrast will be resumed here next week. :-)

Thought of the week
"Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy." - The Eagles

I am linking this post to week 51 of I Saw Sunday