I share here below some pictures from my photo collections for my blog readers with some inspiring quotes of the day.
“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” — Elliott Erwitt
My evening stroll in these extraordinary times nearby jungles brought me a new plant friend. Name of my plant friend is popularly known as Mimosa pudica – (Wikipedia). Otherwise popularly known as “TOUCH ME NOT PLANT”.
The plant’s leaves as you know is filled with full of wonders. On a gentle touch of its tiny leaves with your fingers it gets so shy and the leaves get fold swiftly. And the moment you release your touch it gets unfold. A wonderful sight to eyes to watch this wonder of nature. Green leaves are either very proud or humble in saying that I am too shy and therefore don’t touch me!
Now it is a blooming season for “touch me not plants”. On my evening walk I cannot express in words but I feel very delighted by the beauty of this small flower when it dances to the evening winds…
I love to clickpictures of dark clouds. One has to experience and realize the feeling of beauty in watching the dark clouds in different shapes and different shades. Whenever I click my camera to catch beauty of the dark clouds in the sky I don’t forget to recollect the wonderful words of poet Rrabindranath Tagore that “Dark clouds become heaven’s flowers when kissed by light”.
“The clouds, – the only birds that never sleep.” ― Victor Hugo
Every dark cloud has a silver lining.Their travelling across the skies is indeed a delightful sight.Even in Tamil cinema and in Tamil society’s folk songs they have a special place when it comes to lyrics and song composition.One can similarly found lots of references on “clouds ” in Holy Bible and other classics. One can go on and go on.
After clicking the above picture I recollected with nostalgic feeling the poetic words as quoted below of Shelly of my childhood schooling days.
“I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.” – P. B. Shelley