The colours of the dripping Acacia gum are beautiful. It forms the most magnificent stalactites that deposit resin onto mounds of wannabe stalagmites on the ground below. Unless you are looking for them, though, gummy the piles are well camouflaged and easy to miss.
It often amazes me how out of things seemingly unsightly, dull and ugly, beauty emerges.
Sometimes life overtakes us. So it has been for me in the last ten days.
There is something magic about a clear night sky, the moon and stars.
I love trees, and trees are central to so many things in our lives, from paper to picnics. They bring people together and drive them apart.
February is a significant month: I first published on Fiona's Favourites this month, two years ago. So after browsing through the photographs of my 1999 trip to Spain, for my last post, and thinking about time, I thought it useful to look back on what was, in some ways, was a rite of passage for me.
When I travel on business, like I am this week, this is some of what I miss: the streets where I live.
Just yesterday, it dawned on me that January, and nearly one-twelfth of the year has nearly gone.
Two thousand and sixteen. It sounds like the title of a thirty-year-old sci-fi movie. Except that it's neither that nor the future, it's now
In my day job, this has been a challenging year. I'm not sorry to see the back of it. Some of my best times