‘Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey’


~ George Gordon Byron

“Hug the shore; let others try the deep”

Virgil

poor guy. an exciting name like Publius Vergilius Maro gets vulgarly reduced to Virgil to what, simplify its pronunciation to the masses ?… anyhow, Publius the Poet wasn’t referring to some schmaltzy romanticism when he wrote that but was a deep understanding of one of the only real boundaries that nature on earth has to offer. shores, whether they be in fresh or salt, in still, flowing or seas are the demarcation point between us and them but its also where the two of us can meet as we’re both inextricably attracted to this boundary each one safely in our comfort zones. sometimes we mingle, sometimes we don’t and that’s just fine because something within told us to go there and we simply did what we where supposed to do.

meh… there i go doing exactly one of the things i dislike the most about contemporary photography and any kind of art in general. something i’ve (unsuccessfully) been (mildly) fighting against ever since i did photo school in 1982:

finding the need to put words to images where the image should tell the story on its own and whatever the viewer sees or not or feels or not is their own private business and not mine. besides, i’m a really shitty writer, i know it. it’s just not my thing and i definitely don’t enjoy it and it shows. i’ll try to not fall into that trap again so,

 here’s a shore that had its own story to tell.

shore-rocks-helensburough-m-fauvet-tlc-6-10-16

the Circle

this 51cm – 20″ beauty from a northern England limestone creek was a special fish, a two fisher fish.

i had spotted it holding in its shallow lie and covered it several times with several generic mayfly imitations but it wasn’t in the least bit interested so after a while i insisted that it was buddy Mark Legget‘s turn to temp it.

several “no, you spotted it, its yours” and “yeah, but it doesn’t like me and i really want you to catch it”s later, he not-really reluctantly gave in and positioned himself while i spotted from up on the bank and two perfect drifts later hooked up. after a good fight from both parties i landed it for Mark and we where able to briefly admire it from close up.

memory’s poor, i’ve always had a hard time remembering numbers, but i believe it was around 1,6kg – 3 1/2 lbs. that’s no record by any means but its really an awesome fish for such a small stream but a lot more than that, this was the nicest catch in ages.

Mark was of course happy but something deep inside tells me that i was a lot happier, reminding me of my youth and Hugo my godmother’s husband who was a ‘second father’ for me of sorts who so frequently brought me along on his fishing trips and who was always ecstatic when i’d manage to bring a fish to the net, no matter its size.

we’re of about the same age and Mark and i of course don’t have the mentor/parental or whatever else connection i had with Hugo but this fish left a similar feeling; of having shared and completed a scenario with its wished-for outcome as a team making it a much greater sum than its parts. the circle is complete.

“His dress told her nothing,

but his face told her things which she was glad to know.”

A.A. Milne

best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh, it’s pretty clear Milne knew a thing or two about perch as well.

for the love of water

“You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge.”

that’s a quote by Robert M Pirsig that i tend to agree with, even if those patterns are continually changing, shifting, criss-crossing.

i do look back, deeper and deeper into the water and see more and more but it all inevitably leads back to square one and somehow that senselessness makes sense.

“Why does the eye see a thing more clearly in dreams than the imagination when awake ?”

Leonardo da Vinci

or perhaps, if you keep both eyes open during wake and sleep, dreams and reality will combine ?

ftlow m.fauvet-TLC 23-8-15

“Okay, let’s put it this way. I would like to sleep with you. But it’s alright if I don’t sleep with you. What I’m saying is I’d like to be as fair as possible. I don’t want to force anything on anybody, any more than I’d want anything forced on me. It’s enough that I feel your presence or see your commas swirling around me.”

― Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes

swirled m.fauvet-TLC 2,6,15

” Winter is nature’s way of saying, ‘Up yours.’ “

Robert Byrne

 

'a mid-winter's night dream' ftlow m.fauvet-TLC 2-3-15there’s no connection whatsoever between Byrne’s quote and my moonlit watery gif. none whatsoever.

“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”

~ Cormac McCarthy, The Road

no accompanying image or film could give those words any more meaning, they would only be a distraction.
let’s just take them in, inhale their beauty and deep respect and do our best to not make them creatures of the past but of an eternal present.

the more i study science the more i believe in magic

i can imagine three possible explanations to this rare beauty and only one makes sense.

'nature gives the finger' ftlow m.fauvet:tlc 22-1-15

– there was nothing above such as a tree or whatever where water could have fallen and frozen stalagmite-like.

– water could have been pushed up from the ground. that’s indeed plausible but by the inner bubble formations it would seem that they expanded outwards from the ice formation’s core and not from the ground.

– fairies made this just for me to force me to question everything i’ve learned and accepted as fact so far. i’ll take this one.

'nature gives the finger 2' ftlow m.fauvet:tlc 22-1-15

Loren Eiseley’s fantastic “If there is magic on the planet, it is contained in Water” quote instantly comes to mind and today’s little discovery couldn’t be a finer example of what she meant. i wonder if she too believes in fairies.

“Yeah, it might be a creepy clown, maybe.

 

clownreflection ftlow m.fauvet:tlc 21-1-15

“My marriage is crumbling and this

hat is all I have left in the world – aside from my brilliant wit, my dastardly good looks, and my charming accent.”
~ Bauvard, The Prince of Plungers

midge hat M:Fauvet:TLC 29-11-14

Bubble, bubble toil and trouble.

William Shakespeare
Macbeth

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

1 WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin’d.
3 WITCH. Harpier cries:—’tis time! ’tis time!
1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot!

FTLOW M.Fauvet-TLC 23-7-14 - 2006-11-06 at 16-00-37

ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
3 WITCH. Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg’d i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Cool it with a baboon’s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.