It was the bird that made it all come clear. At first the silhouette was undistinguished from the foreground shadowing but once my eyes were accustomed to the gloom, it had evidently been there all the time, roosting amongst bare branches. Rather sleek, with a beak firmly closed; a distinctly silent messenger. Neither corvid nor dove but something akin to a sunbird perhaps. After all it too is there – the solar disc; some while after daybreak and emitting from the eastern horizon, a warm sienna cast for a woodland scene.
I follow the direction of the bird, through the tracery of twig and canopy and can see a most unique house. Very tall with an arch doorway and roof with distinctive triangular flaps, like a traditional Dutch lace cap. And behind the bokeh blur of sun, an unmistakable cross and spire ascends to the heavens carrying the hopes and aspirations of the Spring renewal.
Archive images relegated for trash are superimposed one upon another and meld into murkiness. Tweaks and edits bring forth the shapes which the gestalt tendency of mind fixes to the canvas. And from such roots, the spirit rises in symbols.
trees summon the bud
tipped bronze by gathering light
wishing I could paint
Taking inspiration from my photoart for an Easter haibun (of sorts) and joining Poetry Pantry