At Leh, I used to sit on the upstairs patio, watching the sky and the way the poplars bent and swayed in the wind, listening to the azan and the rustle of leaves, and I wished to be nowhere else. When I returned to recuperate after serious illness, the leaves had begun to yellow and fall, but the sound remained.
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This is one of the most beautiful and odd photos of yours. Not that I can articulate why. Something in between about it.
ReplyDeleteI think it's the bright freshness of the leaves against the threatening sky and the parched, looking mountain that makes this photograph so arresting. There is an ominous feeling that things must change.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Zhoen. This seems to break some of the 'rules' of composition, but I suppose it's possible to rationalise it after the fact (like anything). All I can say is that I wasn't following any rules; this was almost entirely the result of intuition -- it just felt right and, like you, I can't say why.
ReplyDeleteLisa, the contrast you point out certainly does contribute a great deal, but I particularly appreciate your final comment. A lot certainly did change between the time I photographed this and the time I eventually returned to Leh for my last days in India. Perhaps hindsight helped me select this photograph?