by Steve Tanham
When the settee to the phone Is half-hearted … and alone And you ring it back, but only in your mind —- If you sit and hold the minute And the people who aren’t in it And wonder how to harvest Passing time —- Does a ghostly alter-presence Steal your silenced effervescence And delightfully rehearsed Excuse or ten? —- When your eyes refuse to … Read More The Moment
by Steve Tanham
We often hear the phrase, ‘there’s always light and dark’: two things that stand in polarity – opposition, even – but do we ever stop to let the mind and emotions lead us to a deeper realisation? Light may be mysterious but it’s a clearly identified ‘thing’ – though it doesn’t have edges. We will see, later, why this is important. We can flick … Read More Darkness and her brother
by Steve Tanham
Being here, on the boundary between the cities of Manchester and its ‘lesser’ neighbour, Salford, made me think of the folk song, Dirty Old Town. I met my love by the gas works wallDreamed a dream by the old canalKissed my girl by the factory wall Folk song: Dirty Old Town James Henry Miller, the writer of the song, is better known to us … Read More Dirty old town?
by Steve Tanham
Dragged, sodden. Dumped in Wet and cold moraines Of winter’s angry passing Last vestiges of icy daggers Point to spring with Slowly dripping teeth Fading with a promise to return Daring us to rise from mud And wash … and shine With the faithful daffodils. ©Stephen Tanham 2024 All photos taken and processed on an iPhone 12 ProMax. Stephen Tanham is a writer-photographer and … Read More Melting daggers
by Steve Tanham
Weather-wise, there’s little of cheer at the moment. We left for Ireland in the rain, spent the week – apart from one blessed day in Waterford – in constant drizzle; and returned to face the past three days of driving downpours. Upon our arrival, the neighbours informed us that the weather in our absence had been really good. So it’s official, we’ve become ‘rain … Read More Silver light and rain-Gods
by Steve Tanham
(📩 Irish travel, lots of photos, 1000 words. A good cup of coffee…) We all need a place of tranquility, a haven where we can take a retreat from a busy or even mad world. It may be a room in our house where we keep objects that mean something special to us. We may meditate there, or read books that have become special … Read More A Place of Tranquility
by Steve Tanham
We regret that Mr Tanham’s return from Europe was delayed. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. 😎
+ #Silenti
by Steve Tanham
(📩 100 words, seven photos – two minute read) I noticed that some of my favourite photos had bicycles in them. There’s something ‘happy’ about a bicycle. I had a look back over the years I’ve been blogging and picked out my favourites. Some of these are for decoration, or an eye-catching feature to draw you into a local business. Some are real machines, … Read More And bicycles…
by Steve Tanham
(📩 650 words, Travel musings, photography, a five minute read) There’s something defining about the tall wooden figure facing off across the busy harbour-front road with its opponent: the icy-modern loading hoist, made in steel of various hues. We’re in Waterford, the vibrant coastal heart of south-eastern Ireland; home to the famous crystal glass factory. I can close my eyes and still hear the … Read More Norse notes in an Irish song
+ #Silenti
by Steve Tanham
(Nimue) Today I’m sharing a song by Davóg Rynne which he has put out to raise money for Medicine Sans Frontiers in Gaza. It’s a good example of the … Davóg Rynne’s bardic work
by Steve Tanham
Photographically, I’ve been lucky with Bolton-le-Sands. The constantly changing light lends itself to subtle moods, as long as you know where to find the good perspectives. I time our return drive from visiting my mother’s care home, in Morecambe, to suit what I hope to meet – in terms of light, when we get to the rather weird tidal pools landscape. Sometimes it works; … Read More Like Dickens, but not…
by Steve Tanham
To me, there’s something of the late 1950’s about any image like this with ‘stripey light’ in it. I was born in the middle of that decade. My parents were keen to escape the ‘factory streets’, and we moved out of the terraced housing of ‘old Bolton’ to a seemingly progressive village sitting on a hill halfway to Bury; where the cotton-barons were replaced … Read More Stripey light and an old red Mercedes
Sun in Gemini 
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