in the blink of an eye

I have been blipping now on every single day for the past 10 years. 

Today I was at work in the cafe and then, as usual, doing the weekly shop. When I got home, I didn't stop to unpack or to have a cup of tea, but took my camera for a walk to see if I could find a suitable image for my special blip birthday. In the field next to our house, I came across this slice of an ancient oak tress. It put my 10 years into perspective! I tried to count the rings and I think the tree was almost 200 years old.

I'm not sure what it is about taking a daily photo that is so compelling. Blip has made me live my life in a different way. It has certainly made me look at life in a different way. I often wish that I could be a photographer like Peter Turnley, a witness to life's big events, using my camera to change the way other people see the world, but I have to be satisfied with being a witness to my small part of the planet.

Mary Oliver would have made a wonderful blipper:


Where Does the Temple Begin,
Where Does It End?


There are things you can’t reach. But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.
The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.
And it can keep you as busy as anything else, and happier.


The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
from the unreachable top of the tree.


I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open.
And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree –
they are all in this too.


And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes.
At least, closer.
And, cordially.


Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky


of God, the blue air.


~ Mary Oliver ~
(Why I Wake Early)