The day was overcast, not a single boat or swimmer on the water, and the lake’s translucent enormity was unblemished. Only the fringes of spume lapping at the rocks below gave any sign of motion. Colours were icily commanding: silver clouds billowing down like silk ceiling drapes, the dormant volcanoes on the far bank a wavering stripe of carbon, the sky above them a comfortless blue which changed, as your eyes moved over it, from mauve to stone. Bar the narrow cylinder of sunshine which fell like grace on the far shore, Balaton was as forbidding as a glacier, impassive and untouchable as a Virgin Monarch.
Wednesday, 30 April 2014
There is an article written by R J Markowski about cycling around Lake Balaton in Hungary that uses my photos. It's an interesting read:
Saturday, 26 April 2014
A wander around Sheepleas in the evening, where I also saw charcoal burning.
|Still good bluebells to be seen.|
|"If we don't move, he can't see us."|
|Tree in a coppicing area, surrounded by bluebells.|